Motorcycles, Travel & Adventure

Motorcycle TourMagazine

another show of power. On the back end of this came far cooler temperatures under cloudy skies. After the last 1,000 or so kilometers of riding in the sun we’d gladly trade it off.

Although many riders feel that they have no need for a good tour company, it always helps to have others with you who know the little ins and outs of the region. Thus, at SAMA’s suggestion, we followed our intrepid leader along a tiny one lane tar roadway that rode through deep jungle and down a winding path to the bottom of Oribi Gorge. What was stunning from the top was impressive from the bottom as well.

This was just the beginning of the best day’s ride, if not the weirdest weather-wise. Heading east from Oribi we found another tiny coastal road and headed south. Unfortunately our planned fuel stop and the surrounding area had suffered a power outage from the previous night’s storms and now our need for gas was beginning to mount.

With nothing else to do but continue on we followed the road, which headed back up the peaks and along the most fascinating terrain.

South African’s call this the Wild Coast and with good reason. This part of the country still follows tribal rule and the Pondi, as the locals are called, still live much like they have for centuries, although modern Planet Earth is slowly enveloping them. There are no real streets or any addresses I could see, but the locals have their homes, round rondevals, and farms spread out for miles on the incredible rolling hills and mountains that so govern the region.

Along the way south, strong rivers have cut deep gorges and many little port and fishing villages can be found where the rivers meet the sea.

We finally found a fuel station with power in the little town of Bizana, where we filled each bike to the brim.

The Bantam B22 Micro Light aircraft banked to the right and dropped altitude. Below me half a dozen elephants casually looked skywards as the small craft buzzed over their mighty grey heads.

To the west the sun was just beginning to give its final kiss before rapidly dropping from view and offering the land to the embrace of a waning moon.

As we came into land I could see the group of motorcycles, parked for the night, looking so small from the height. It was our first full day on the road in Africa and things were just beginning.

We flew in, a few days earlier to Johannesburg, South Africa, on a flight from JFK, with a quick hour layover for fuel and additional passengers in Dakar. You would think that landing in Dakar your journey would be almost over.

Not so; much like “South of the Border” on I-95 where you are less than half way to the Keys, Dakar is closer to New York than Johannesburg. With another 8 hours to go it can almost be depressing.

Still soon enough the near 20 hour trip brought us to Jo-Burg and into the capable hands of South African Motorcycle Adventures, or SAMA.

A tight family run operation headed up by Darryl Berman and run with son and daughter Jonathon and Nicole, we had met them a few years back at the New York Motorcycle Show and were impressed by what they offered riders wanting to explore South Africa. They picked us up at the JoBurg airport and soon we were riding to the outskirts of Pretoria, where a quaint and secure inn would be our home for the next couple of nights.

The nation of South Africa has a deep and rich history, some of not well looked upon, but things are different these days and much of the more colorful parts of this region’s history is still here to be seen and ridden through.

Shira and I had traveled in this part of the world before but that was a decade ago and opportunities to ride in such an exotic land do not come often so we made our plans and off we went.

Our first plan was for Shira and I to do this solo and self-guided, but we had some friends join us so it became more of a standard motorcycle tour with a leader and chase truck.

Coming along on this trip were our friends from Washington state Dave and Ellen Foscue, who had traveled with me to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska and also to Ushuaia, Chile just a year or so ago. When it comes to touring these folks like to head out in a big way. Also with us was Backroads’ alumni Mike Mosca, who saw our poster for this journey at the New York show this year and put it all together in a matter of weeks to join us.

The tour ran like many others. Each day there would be a briefing on the upcoming ride, what to expect, to look out for and the all-important reminder of staying on the left side of the road.

Nicole would not be joining us. Darryl, a gregarious guy with a solid sense of humor, would lead the ride and be our “fixer” if we ran into any situations or problems. Jonathon, a young man with a perpetual laugh and a solid fellow as well, would follow along with a chase vehicle, carrying a spare bike and our luggage. Usually he beat us to the lodges and our bags would be waiting in our rooms.

We were ready to ride the Best South African Road Trip Ever Tour!

Day One - Pretoria - 75km

Our first day in Africa started off with a quick briefing, at SAMA headquarters, on the rules of the road and the tour in general.

This sojourn would start in Pretoria, spin up to Kruger National Park and then swing south through Swaziland, a tiny landlocked nation of its own and home to the Zulu, before reaching the Indian Ocean and continuing south along the coast all the way to Cape Agulhas.

Cape Agulhas is the southernmost point in Africa and it would be quite excellent to touch this point on the planet with the same riders I have traveled with to Prudhoe Bay and Ushuaia - the northernmost and southernmost points in the Americas. Our tour would end a few weeks later in Capetown.

After taking the bikes from SAMA, all BMW F650GS’ except for two R1200GS’ ridden by Darryl and myself, we did a short tour of Pretoria, taking in the Voortrekker Monument and the history of the city itself before heading back to the lodge and a great welcoming Braai, South African for barbeque, which turned into a birthday party for Mike.

Since most of the group already knew each other we could forgo with pretense and simply enjoy the good company. After the hard winter at Backroads Central all was suddenly good in the world again and the next day we would be getting on the road.

Day Two - Pretoria to Hazyview - 400km

We left at our scheduled 8am time and made our way out of Pretoria, heading west on a large toll road. This allowed us the easiest way out of the city and soon we were riding into the Eastern Transval, now called Mpumalanga.

With clear blue skies above and the temperature steadily rising the scenery was vast and rolling, with the occasionally trees sprinkled across the land.

Following Darryl’s lead we exited the big road and carried along on smaller, more personable pavement to our first stop - the Nan Hua Temple.

We have seen and visited many Buddhist Temple, but Nan Hua was the largest and most beautiful we had ever seen by far. We felt more like we were riding in Asia and not Africa.

Removing our riding boots we toured the main temple and paid our respects to the three huge Buddha in the temple’s center. This temple was magnificent, totally unexpected and a great way to start our African journey.

Continuing on we rode up through DeBerg Pass, the highest in Mpumalanga and then through Long Tom Pass, with its massive cannon sitting atop the summit. The Long Tom Guns were used during the Boer War, when the Afrikan and British force went at each other’s throats back a hundred years ago. The Long Tom still sits atop the ridge, a reminder of South Africa’s troubled past.

Here the road began to get very interesting and following Darryl into the increasingly interesting twisties the fun part of the day’s ride really began.

Atop the pass the blue sky gave way to dark clouds and lightning began to streak away into the not distant future. The clouds lowered and it was obvious that something big, mean and wet had just marched through the mountains. The wet pavement began to heat and give back the moisture while a deep mist ran along the pavement, the bikes cutting through it and raising swirls behind as they did.

Coming around one misty turn a large lizard, about 4 feet in length, sauntered across the road in front of us, causing some a bit of a fright as we had to ride around him at speed.

Now the fog really embraced us and with 4-way flashers on we gingerly made our way over the rest of Long Tom, keeping a sharp eye peeled for tree debris on the road from the quickly vanishing tempest.

We took lunch in the town of Sabie at a great motorcycle friendly place called the Woodsman. The bar had a BMW R1200S suspended above it and a giant map told of all the best roads to ride in the area. This place even had a large board with a warning to riders of where there had been a diesel fuel spill and to take care when riding in that part of the mountains.

Very cool.

The road from Sabie to Hazyview was as fun as it gets and although everybody was on the same page skill-wise the two 1200GS had a big advantage when it came to horsepower.

At the bottom of the road, both Darryl and I quickly dropped our helmets and jackets and tried to act like we had been waiting for 20 minutes when the rest of the group pulled up a just a few minutes later.

We took rooms at a lodge just outside of Kruger National Game Park.

We would be here for the next few days, using it as a base of operations, but before we could even settle in SAMA had a nice end of day surprise for us - thus the hop on the Micro Light.

What an amazing real day on the road in Africa.

Day Three - Hazyview Loop - 250km

This region of South Africa has an abundance of natural wonders and great roads to get you there.

Our group was out early and rode along the Blyde’s River Canyon, a stunning chasm by itself, and then up into the pine covered mountains on an excellently sweeping roadway. Our first stop was to be the incredible vista called God’s Window; but a nasty cloud had parked itself atop the peak and there was nothing of the view to be seen so we moved onto Bourkes Potholes. These potholes have been created by thousands of years of water erosion and between the potholes, the great waterfalls and the monkeys dashing to and fro it was a great stop.

By this time it was near lunch and we cut across the peaks and through the valley on a well groomed gravel and clay road.

This allowed the GS’s to get at least properly dirty.

We took lunch in the small mountain town of Pilgrim’s Rest. Here gold was found years ago and still today is being mined. The town itself retains a classy British feel from the days when the Empire was still an Empire.

Heading back towards Hazyview we rode in and out of a couple of storms, but here in Africa the weather can change around each mountain.

That evening we had a chance to play with elephants and even take a ride, so we took it. I think I learned more about these wonderful creatures in a short hour than in my entire life. Even Mr. Happy got involved when the Bull tried to take him away from Shira. He was covered in elephant snot!

A sunset ride was a marvelous experience on the back of the great gray beast. That was followed by a native dance and dinner at a local restaurant; which ended the day in true South African style.

That night, Shira and I were woken by large booming. A thunderstorm of Biblical size had moved in and the lightning and thunder were terrific. Nearly 3 inches of rain came tumbling down as the winds whipped and the thunder crashed like a huge bass drum. I had forgotten just how powerful storms can be in these parts of the world. It was as humbling as it was

Bizana is like many of the towns here in this part of South Africa. You will be rolling along for an hour with nothing but hills, rivers and rondevals and then turn a corner and ride into a crappy little 4th world wild west Main street that looks like the set from Black Hawk Down.

Interesting, but there were little jewels as well; like Port St. Johns where we stopped for lunch. As we headed towards the coast the clouds came in and a light rain as well, then the temperatures began to drop with the winds.

Where the previous day was 110+, today we found ourselves in 50 degrees and chilly rain. Africa is a fickle woman, I tell ya!

At lunch we raided the chase van for extra layers.

It was Sunday and from the porch of the restaurant I could hear singing in the small church across the road. I strolled over and poked my head inside to see where all this glorious singing was coming from. A woman spotted me and the congregation all turned to see this strange white man in stranger riding garb peering into their service. At once the Priest and people asked me in and I humbly entered the church and listen for a while; totally awesome and real music to my ears.

So far this day’s ride had been the best yet. Great terrain, awesome roads, but the route from Port St. Johns to Coffee Bay was even better.

At one view we stopped to regroup and a bunch of young children appeared out of nowhere. It amazes me how this happens around the globe.

They posed for pictures with us, got a big chuckle when I pulled out Mr. Happy (The puppet - get your mind outta the gutter!) and got a huge jolt when I had them start my bike when we were leaving.

Riding through one crowded town a slightly inebriated woman thought Mike was her new man and ran over to give him a kiss, pushing into his raised Nolan helmet and tugging at his arms. Mike was not amused. Neither would you have been if you had seen her; but Mike took the ribbing he got all night as we blew kisses to him from across the dinner table.

The final road to Coffee Bay was another bombed out piece of pavement, but the potholes were worth the view and the ride. We rode the last 50 kilometers on the pegs slipping in and out and between huge holes in the road. Wouldn’t you know it but our final 20 minutes was ridden in a solid downpour and we all arrived at our hotel, right on the Indian Ocean as wet as if we had ridden out of the sea.

Day 10 - Free Day at Coffee Bay

The Ass and the Hole in the Wall

We would be here for two nights, so we hoped for some sun the next day.

Our hotel room and balcony looked over Coffee Bay and walking down to the rocks and along the beach was a great way to start the day. Although the sun didn’t come and the occasional mist came floating by it was still a fine day.

The rest of our group had decided to take the van to the Hole in the Wall, a famed natural landmark where the ocean ate away at the rocks; creating the hole. After hanging around the hotel and the pool Shira, Mike and I decided to head out for a little ride and followed the road towards the Hole.

Shira decided to double up on my R1200GS for the day, and that never has posed a problem. I like having her along for the ride.

The road quickly turned to white clay, which this region is known for and before long we were water crossing a river estuary that poured into the Indian Ocean.

Along this road the superb views and the rolling hills, plummeting down to the ocean, were stunning. Tribal rondevals were scattered about the hills and little children and old women all laughed and waved as we rode by.

Right about then the rains came back.

From there the road got rougher and far slicker. The white clay began to liquefy and quickly became almost unrideable. By the time we rode up the final hill to view the Hole in the Wall, it was apparent that we had gotten ourselves into a pickle. Still, as we found out later, we got closer to the Hole than anybody else that day as the vans and jeeps couldn’t deal with the slippery clay.

Coming off the hill was an event in itself, but we managed without creating a gravity storm and as the rains floated away the ground quickly began to dry. By the time we reached the village to stop for sports drinks and meat pies it was almost back to normal - which is bad at the best of times; still there were times that Shira had to get off and walk a bit as I muscled the 1200 up and over some boulders or arroyo.

Now this was a bit of adventure riding.

High tide had come into the small lagoon and crossing back through it was about twice as deep as before - still the bikes needed a washing.

After the morning’s riding adventure we washed the bikes back at the hotel and spent the rest of the day enjoying the magnificent views of Coffee Bay.

We were sharing the hotel with other guests who were on a “Bus Tour,” and you know how we love these people; still it was one woman’s birthday and, not unlike Denny’s, the staff came out to sing. Much unlike Denny’s, the women in Coffee Bay sang like angels and “Happy Birthday” will never sound so sweet again. But, once started they forged on undaunted, and sang a number of brilliant South African songs, finishing with the National anthem.

It was an outstanding end to another outstanding African day.

Day 11 - Coffee Bay to Port Alfred - 450km

We were promised sunshine and blue skies this day and the Weather Gods came through. With moderate temperatures and puffy white clouds we headed back up the road that we had come down in the deluge a few days past.

This time the ride and views were far more pleasurable and I was still amazed at how the locals live, yet that the children were all dressed so properly in their school uniforms walking on the side of the road in, what seemed, the middle of nowhere.

This day our pace was a bit faster and the first 30 kilometers was spent dodging potholes. I felt like Han Solo flying the Millennium Falcon dodging asteroids. We picked up the N2 route heading south, which almost seemed like an interstate, except for the constant goats and cattle running about.

Riding between and along the rondeval-scattered hills we made great time and the road at the Grand Kei River Gorge was magnificent, with wide sweepers and a wonderful pace.

We had planned to take lunch in the city of East London, but sidetracked away from the wharf area to find the East London Museum, the home of the first caught Coelacanth. Brought up from the deep in 1938 the fish was spotted by a local scientist, who knew it to be different and special. It turned out to be a living fossil, that was supposedly extinct for 780 million years - give or take.

A very strange creature and these days more have been found and even videotaped alive in the depths. It makes you wonder what else could be out there, but I’ll let O’Life tell the whole tale.

We had a spectacular lunch at the museum and then found a small road that spun along the coast. Every few kilometers the mighty dunes, some 60 feet high would give way to a river pouring in from the mountains to the west and the estuary would open up a stunning view of the Indian Ocean.

Rushing down from those mountains as well was one heck of a lightning storm so we turned it up a bit and did a great job of beating Mother Nature by getting to our hotel in Port Alfred before the rains - which for whatever reason held off their appearance till dinner during the sunset at the wharf, where a lightning storm across the Indian Ocean gave us a show.

Port Alfred was about the nicest and most modern community we had found in Africa so far. With a very cool and colorfully lit bridge crossing the Kowie River, which bisects the town, well-kept vacation homes and a perfect climate, you can see why this is such a popular destinations with many South Africans.

After we checked in I took the GS down to the beach. I had heard that this would be spectacular and as an avid beach bum I felt the need to ride down and show some respect.

Magnificent, superb, incredible - I have seen many a beach but nothing like the beach at Port Alfred. The dunes that had been riding on our left in such a grand manner were forested on the western side, but on the east, where the Indian Ocean had its way with them they looked like the “urgs” of the Sahara. To the north as far as the eye could see the dunes rolled on, some taller than 6-story apartment buildings. I just drank it all in. This was a part of Africa I had never even dreamed of.

I told the Creator that he, she or it kicked some ass here.

Day 12 - Port Alfred to Knysna - 450km

This day would be a straight day down, or actually around, as we now would be swinging around the coast of the dark continent and riding more west than south. We stopped for lunch in Jeffries Bay, across from where dolphins enjoy their day, and while there I stocked up on some biltong, South African jerky, for the rest of the day.

Leaving Jeffries Bay we rode past some of the most beautiful homes we had seen to date on this tour, but just around the corner we ran into another Township.

In many of the more urban areas of South Africa one will still find a township, usually consisting of hundreds of small shanty shacks built of wood or corrugated steel panels, with fences lined with outhouses and only the basic of services. The contrast of these two life styles, so close to each other, is more than a bit striking and shows that although South Africa is growing and evolving that many blacks have a long way to go to reach parity with some whites. Still, with some regions the native Africans prefer the old ways, but it is many of the younger ones who want more; and they should get it.

At this point in Africa, where many Europeans spotted this coast for the first time, the Tsitsikamma Mountains run close to the coast, the rough peaks simply adding to the flavor of this part of the world. The mountains, and the abundant rainfall have created a number of enormous gorges and every few kilometers we we would ride over another one that would steal our breath away.

At the Bloukrans Pass, underneath Africa’s largest bridge, folks were tossing themselves off on the world’s highest bungee jump, some 216 meters high. We stopped to watch the daredevils and when we returned to the bikes we ran into the biggest baboon I have ever seen. At least 175 pounds of simian muscle and teeth, he stopped, looked at us, and kept on his walkabout. He was Kong, eighth wonder of the world.

From Blourkans Pass it was a short ride to Knysna (pronounced Ny-sner), a neat seaside town at the bottom of Africa. We would be here for a couple of days, so we made ourselves comfortable and took in the local sights and great Knysna oysters, which could very well be the best we have ever had.

Day 13 - Free Day in Knysna

After a late night we had a later start and took the R1200GS, two up, to the famed Knysna Heads, huge facing rock formations where the river meets the sea. The rest of the group went their own way as well; Mike going ‘zip-lining’ through the jungle, Dave and Ellen doing an Eco-Tour and the guides taking a day off.

That afternoon we met our friends Buks and Corne, whom we had ridden with in Africa 10 years back. There was much fun that afternoon with plenty of Castle beer, local wines and lots of great food and greater smiles.

It’s a shame that such good friends live so far away - we certainly could do this often.

Day 14 - Knysna to Oudtshoorn - 250km

We started out this day in a light mist, some of that in my head after my day with Buks, but that burned off as we rode away from the sea on an inland trek. Darryl had planned a superb ride into and around the mountains on low lying passes that ran along the rivers and mountain jungles that can be found not far from the coast.

With names like Phantom Pass and Homtini Pass, they were all hard packed clay and made for a great early morning jaunt.

Swinging back down to the Indian Ocean again, in the town of George, we stopped by the local BMW dealer for some odds and ends and to see some of the newer bikes. Great folks at this shop and they helped us out with a few minor glitches that needed attention.

Our destination that evening was the town of Oudtshoorn, high in the karoo, the arid lands above the Outeniekwaberge Mountains.

The Outeniqua Pass was as stunning and beautiful to ride as any I have ever seen and it was a hard choice to make between blasting this thing or just cruising it and taking in the stunning mountains, clouds and vista. Shira, Mike and Darryl went fast. I took in the scenery this morning.

We took lunch at the Cango Caves, a giant cavern found high in the ragged peaks and then a few of us did something that has never crossed my mind.

They went riding ostriches. At the Cango Ostrich Farm, where the birds are raised for their meat, feathers and eggs, they also have tours which finish with allowing those under 75 kilograms a chance to ride these big birds.

Years ago, in Australia, Shira had a run-in with one of these birds and has not been a big fan since. Overcoming her fear she volunteered for the first ride and did fairly well before being tossed into the dirt. Mike did fine too, but Ellen, who barrel-races horses, simply dominated the ostrich.

By early evening we rode into Oudtshoorn proper and made ourselves comfortable in a fine B & B inn. Unlike the past few nights where we tended to get a bit feral, this night was an early one as we had a date with some crocs first thing in the morning and then we would ride to Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point in Africa and the reason I came this way.

Day 15 - Oudtshoorn to Cape Agulhas - 400km

This was the day. We’d ride from the Klein Karoo (little desert) to the southernmost point on the continent of Africa. No matter how you looked at it, it would be an exciting day.

But, before heading to Agulhas we had a date with some crocs at the Cango Wildlife Ranch, but little did we know others would have an even more exciting morning. Shira and I had brought our bright yellow friend Mr. Happy, but few know that Shira’s totem is the sea turtle and she has a little fella we picked up on a ferry crossing Lake Champlain. He is a turtle we call Spitfiire.

Spitfire and Mr. Happy are old buddies now from Monkey With A Gun, and he wanted in on this trip to Africa, so he was riding with Shira and Mr. Happy with me.

Mr. Happy wanted to hang with us and the crocs, but when taking a quick tour of the ranch Shira went to take a picture of Spitfire with a Marabou Stork, called the Undertaker Bird. These guys are the last of the scavengers, even picking at carcasses after the vultures have been long gone. Shira set up her shot and, in a blink, the Marabou had snatched the turtle and took off with Shira’s buddy. He tried a few times to eat Spitfire, but polyester was not to his liking so he simply started to beat the snot out of the little guy. The group of families with us started shouting and calling for help and finally a manager came to the stuffed turtle’s rescue. Disheveled, disgusting and

awesome.

Day Four - Exploring Kruger Park

The Search for the Big Five

We rose hours before the dawn on this day and by 6 am we greeted the rising sun as we rode into Kruger Park. Not on motorcycles, but in the back of a people carrying truck.

Motorcycles are not allowed for obvious reasons, most likely because we would be breakfast for some hungry critter.

If you have ever dreamed of seeing animals in the wild then Kruger is a “must see” place on this planet.

We had been here a decade ago, and at that time we had seen four of the “Big Five”, missing the elusive leopard.

This day we were not in the park for more than 10 minutes before we came around a turn and almost into a bull elephant, tearing branches off a tree.

Further into Kruger, not one, but two male lions were sauntering down the trail.

It was phenomenal.

By this time the sun was fully up and its strong rays were burning across an outcropping of giant rocks.

Atop the rocks, lying in the early day’s sun was the last piece of the puzzle; a stunning leopard. She watched us with curiosity and then stood, stretched and in a blink disappeared. I have seen so many glorious things, but this big cat took my breath away. She was so beautiful and I know she was also so deadly. It is not unusual for a cat like this to take down a human that foolishly gets too close or, more likely, is taken by surprise.

I could go on for pages talking about this part. Trust us to say we saw many, many animals - the rest of the Big Five - cape buffalo and rhino. We saw hundreds of impala, warthog, wild dog, ostrich, kudu, Mozambique spitting cobra, wildebeest, giraffe and dozens of different birds. In the rivers we spotted hippos and crocodiles. We even had the great fortune of seeing a number of cheetahs, which we were told was a rare sight indeed.

We were in the park, which is huge, being the size of Israel, for the entire day and every mile brought more amazement. Kruger is one of the most amazing places on Earth and I would park the bikes any day to be able to see this place again.

That night’s dinner was especially good. Kudo venison steaks with mushrooms and bone marrow - chunks of bone cut open with the marrow just lightly brazed. Scrumptious!

Day Five - Hazyview to Swaziland - 350km

This day was going to be a hot one. I was already drenched with sweat before even getting on the bike. Thankfully our route this day would bring us to the “Mountain Kingdom” - Swaziland.

Heading up into the mountains the temperatures did abate a bit, as long as you were moving, but stopping and standing in the sun was truly for mad dogs. In fact it was so hot that the button on my iPod literally melted off, as I had left it in my map case during lunch. My mistake, lesson learned.

The road that would bring us into Swaziland was in the middle of conversion from hard packed dirt to a paved two-laner. We alternately rode asphalt and gravel most of the morning along vistas that could only be called phenomenal!

Crossing into Swaziland was interesting as the guards on both sides of the border seemed genuinely happy to be doing their jobs and in short notice passports were stamped and gates lifted, allowing us to enter into the small Kingdom. Swaziland is full of friendly, but poor people and a few of the towns we rode through seemed to harken back to the Africa of the past.

The paved roads in this part of the nation felt like they had been used for artillery practice but we thoroughly enjoyed the 30 kilometers of hard packed clay and gravel; and the road that spun high into the mountains and along some pristine pine forests. Once again Africa was beautiful.

We stopped atop one peak to see the great Maguga Dam and then crossed it and took lunch overlooking the dam that supplies power to the Swazi Kingdom.

From here on the road improved a great deal and we began to make time through rolling hills and long valleys. Dozens of school children, neatly dressed in their uniforms cheered and waved to us on their way back home from day’s classes. A few braver ones even held out their hands for high fives as we rolled by slowly from stoplights. Children and motorcycles; no matter where you go on this planet the two seem to flow well together.

Arriving a few hours earlier than usual, in a great hotel located in the Ezulwini Valley, it seemed appropriate to enjoy an hour or so poolside with a cold beverage and then another great South African meal. Tomorrow we would ride to the Indian Ocean and then begin our trek south to the end of Africa.

Day 6 - Swaziland to Saint Lucia, KwaZulu-Natal - 330km

If the previous day seemed a bit warm this day would be a scorcher!

We all knew it would be quite warm so the previous night we went light on the wine and heavy on the water; in an attempt to keep hydrated.

Before heading to the border we made a quick stop at the Swazi Candle Shop, where some of the finest figurine candles are created. It was interesting to watch the craftsmen create them and we bought a bunch for presents back home.

Once again the poverty of Swaziland was so apparent and it seems that while his nation has 40% unemployment and nearly 70% of them live on less than a dollar a day, the King, Maswati III, has 14 wives and twice that many estates and palaces; and we thought our politicians take advantage.

We lucked out at the border crossing, beating a tour bus by just minutes and we were through both crossings in minutes, not the hour we expected.

We then rode a long straight and evil, but necessary road into South Africa’s Zulu Kingdom.

I guess it is a sign of the times but, at one petrol stop, a black man spotted us and pulled a quick u-turn. Driving right up to the bikes he got out of his beat up Toyota and started heralding, “Obama, Obama, Obama!”

We asked how he knew we were Americans and he said that the local TV news said that a group of Americans were riding down the coast on BMW motorcycles and we had to be them.

The news, huh? Great, so much for low key touring.

Heading east towards the coast the temperatures soared and the thermometer on board the 1200GS read 44C, nearly 112 degrees in our part of the world. It was so hot that Shira thought her contacts were melting and we could not drink enough water.

Thankfully, as we approached the St. Lucia region the ocean winds picked up and the temperature dropped down to a more survivable 32C.

We had visited this region before and that evening, while the rest of the team went for a sunset cruise looking for hippo and croc, Shira and I went carousing in town. St. Lucia has a fairly happening nightlife and we made the best of it, as the next day we’d be off the bikes.

Day 7 - Free Day in St. Lucia

The Great Monkey Caper

The really cool part of St. Lucia is that when the sun goes down the hippos come out and it is not unusual to find a family of hippo taking a stroll down the middle of the street. It’s best to give them plenty of space.

With a free day off the bikes we opted to join Darryl and rode in the truck to the iSimangaliso Wetland Park. This word means “miracle and wonder” and the name befits this place. Along the drive in we spotted zebra, wildebeest, kudu and rhino. This place is the largest estuary in Africa and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site as well. Here the coast runs rugged, north into Mozambique with a simply magnificent beach.

We spent a few hours body surfing in the hard waves of the Indian Ocean, at Cape Vidal, and then had a small braai for lunch.

That’s when the fun started. You see at this place you are constantly being watched, almost hunted and stalked; and the moment you let your guard down they will strike.

No sooner had Darryl put down the rolls for the sausage did the first monkey jump down from above and steal the bag.

We ran after him, only to see him actually throwing rolls to his monkey friends. A few seconds later I looked over to see a monkey’s ass sticking out of the cooler; we let out a yell but he got away with a juice. These monkeys seemed to be organized!

By this time there were dozens of these critters walking around and they would grab anything that they thought they could take a bite of.

One good-sized male sat in a tree, right over my head and even went for my camera when I went to take his picture. God, they were tenacious and after a while we considered it dinner and a show.

Enjoying a well-deserved day off we spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing by the pool and then walking into town to shop a bit and enjoy one of the best seafood dinners I’ve ever had.

On the stroll home we ran into three huge hippos enjoying an evening meal of some lodges lawn. We did not venture too close.

Day 8 - St. Lucia to Oribi Gorge

For most of this day we rode along the smaller roads, African backroads, that would bring us south. SAMA, like us, tries to stay off the bigger highways if possible and this always allows for a better feel for the real lay of the land. The Elephant Coast, as it is called, follows the Indian Ocean south and we did too.

This day was also a hot one and we stopped a number of times just to grab some water and the occasional sports drink at a petrol station.

The terrain flowed over bright green hills, mostly filled with sugar cane and the Indian Ocean, just over the rise, showed her face every now and again.

We took the toll road highway to scoot around the Port City of Durban.

This was as far as Shira and I had ridden the last time around so we were now in uncharted territory for us. Once past the port we swung back off the big road and onto a small coastal two-laner that spiraled towards the coastline and the town of Scottburgh, where we found a local restaurant overlooking the swimmers, surfers and fishermen playing with the sea just below.

Heading back out our planned route was blocked by a huge sand wash. The sign said, in Afrikan and English, that the road was closed. Maybe.

We rode through and around the first and the second, slipping and sliding in some deeper sand, but the third wash was insurmountable as it was backed by a steel guard rail.

I guess they really meant ‘road closed’.

We backtracked a bit and Darryl spied a small trail that led through the brush and trees and over a tiny hill. This was doable. One by one we rode the bikes over the hump and down the steep far side onto good solid pavement - we were nothing if not determined.

A short time later we rode up into the mountains that flank the ocean on a very twistalicious piece of pavement and made our way to the Oribi Gorge.

Some 365 million years in the making the 24 kilometer long gorge, carved out of the sandstone cliffs by the Umzimkulwana river, is quite stunning When we arrived at the hotel, the best place we had stayed at yet, most of our group chose to head straight to the cooling waters of the pool with a cold South African beer. Their plan was to take the van the short dirt ride to the gorge later for sunset.

Mike Mosca and I thought, since we were already drenched in sweat and had all our gear on, we would spin up the gorge first, take in the sights and still make it back for the pool and said South African beer with time to spare. Besides, we had ridden all day on the bikes to get to this place, who would want to have their first visit to the famed gorge in a van when the bikes were still running? Right.

Our plan was brilliant.

Later that evening we headed back up to the gorge and to Leopard Rock, a precipice that literally juts out over the deep gorge.

Once again Africa easily reached out and touched us - such a stunning and breathtaking place.

Day 9 - Oribi Gorge to Coffee Bay - 450km

The previous night’s heat finally came to a boiling point and the skies opened up with

distraught Spitfire was returned and Mr. Happy was glad his buddy would return to the relative safety of MWAG.

But, we had come here for something that some might consider a bit wacky, but what the hell - cage diving with crocodiles.

I tell you they are scary enough to simply look at, but diving alongside them in their natural element was phenomenal. Mike, Shira and I were the only ones game for the dive (bad choice of words), while the others played with tiger cubs - also very cool.

Mission accomplished we carried on to the end of the world along South Africa’s famed Route 62, which ran straight and true before rising into the Rooiberb mountains with some great riding to be had.

We made the obligatory stop at Ronnie’s Sex Shop, a South African biker bar in the middle of nowhere, and took lunch.

To get down to the coast again we followed a most stunning mountain pass called the Tradouws. I can see why this road is a favorite with riders from Cape Town.

Soon we were on the road dead south, along sparse grasslands, with cattle and sheep. Here the winds picked up terribly, and like our trip to Ushuaia, another “End of the World”, we would get to Cape Agulhas riding along some seriously stiff breezes.

The little town of L’Agulhas was pleasant enough and we would be overnighting there, but we rode right through and then down a gravel road that ended at a path. Not to be shortchanged Darryl, Mike and I let the others park and walk down, while we rode the path to where the Indian Ocean and the Atlantic meet.

Cape Agulhas, the southernmost point in Africa. The End of the World and another, the fourth of the “Big Five,” now bagged and on the resume.

Only Capo Nord in Norway remains.

Ellen, Dave and I had done Prudhoe Bay in Alaska and Shira had joined us in Ushuaia, Chile, while Bluff, New Zealand had been visited a few years back - but Cape Agulhas was a big one for us and it was a bit emotional as we all congratulated each other and posed for memories.

Now it was time to ride back to town and have a few cold ones and think about the next few days to Cape Town.

Day 16 - Cape Agulhas to Franschoek - 250km

This was to be a relatively easy day, so the previous evening we went over maps with the owner, Derrick, from the Tip of Africa Lodge. He and his wife were great and true Afrikaners. He told wonderful stories and they even had a guitar lying about that just added to the fun.

He pointed out some gravel roads that would bring us through some great scenery and so we detoured that way.

The road to the town of Elim was 40 kilometers of superb 4th and 5th gear, up on the pegs riding and the downhill run to the ocean was nothing short of spectacular. This would be our last bit of unpaved riding so we milked it for what it was worth and sullenly rode back onto the tar road.

Elim was as cute as a small African village comes, with a small historical section and the oldest water wheel in

South Africa, built in 1828. Really charming, one of those places where you could buy a little hideaway.

The coast road around to Hermanus was pleasantly cool this day. For the past few weeks the ocean that had paced us was the Indian, but today, rounding the tip of Africa we now were riding alongside the Atlantic- I could almost see the Statue of Liberty some 6,000 miles thataway.

From Hermanus, where we lunched on snails and fish pate in a restaurant built into a sea cave, with waves crashing below us, we continued on the coast road that rose high along the Overburg Mountains that tightly hug the sea at this part of the continent.

The views were stunning, the road well paved and the speeds welcome as the temperature had begun to creep up a bit. By the time we turned north and inland to Franschoek we were well into the 40s.

SAMA once again chose a charming lodge in the center of town and after showers we went to explore the tiny hamlet that is the center of the South African Wine region.

We were able to find a few bottles that night.

Day 17 - Franschoek to Cape of Good Hope - 200km

All good things must come to an end, and such it was with this phenomenal tour of South Africa. But, before we handed the keys back to SAMA we had one last jaunt, this time to the Cape of Good Hope.

The first pass that day, leaving Franschoek, was another rocky stunner, with the occasional baboon family charging across the roadway. Dodging apes at speed makes a great sport.

Riding down to the coast road we were told that we would be stopping by to pay respects to the grave of a Danish Naval Officer named Just Nuisance, who was famous of sorts, and we rode up the mountain road in search of the same. It turns of Just Nuisance was a Great Dane, a dog, who found his way into the South African Navy and when he passed he was given full Military Honors. Excellent. We looped around through Simon’s Town, which I found to be full of delightful English flair and the Fish & Chips were perfect.

With bikes and bellys full we rode to Cape Point, also called the Cape of Good Hope. We took the funicular to the top of the point and battled the bus people for a group shot at the cape.

Riding back around towards Hout Bay, through Table Mountain National Park, the road was once again outstanding, with broad mountains running right along the ocean and the road simply laced around the rocky peaks. Once again baboons kept our attention and I couldn’t help but sadly sigh when I realized we only had a few more kilometers before we followed Darryl to our final lodge of the tour.

The Dream House was the most spectacular of the places we stayed, nestled high in the mountains looking down into the verdant valley, it lived up to its name.

We had one final meal together as a group and the next day, as Jonathon rode one bike home, Darryl stopped by for one more hug and a barrage of thanks for such an incredible journey he had shown us.

That day we shuttled into Cape Town proper where we’d spend the next few days enjoying what this fantastic city had to offer. Table Mountain, The A & V Waterfront, museums, street shops and one very cool le’natural beach we discovered off the beaten path.

Final thoughts on

SAMAs Best South African Road Trip Ever Tour

As Ben Onono sings in Blink, “In the flash and a blink of an eye, it can all change overnight.”

That is what happens when you wake up from a catnap in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean after flying off the African continent from Dakar, Senegal.

I looked out my window and I could see the Southern Cross burning big and bright, but steadily lowering in the southern horizon. A half hour later I saw her again and then she was gone as the jet rushed into the northern hemisphere.

Africa was gone - in the blink of an eye.

This part of the world, once again, has touched me as a place of raw beauty, natural wonder and, sadly, the tricky combination of humankind - both good and bad.

Flourishing or surviving.

I like to dwell on the good.

South African Motorcycle Adventures has put together the ultimate two-wheeled adventure to those brave enough to grab it, with their Best South African Road Trip Ever Tour!

Some of you roll your eyes when you hear of tours in such exotic places, but you must not wear blinders. We never once felt threatened or in danger, well maybe Shira’s puppet with the Marabou Stork, and each day brought a different experience, many of which will become life memories.

South Africa is not the battlefield nation it has been made out to be, it is full of strong, vibrant and helpful people who are just getting into their stride as a nation.

Add to that, that South Africa is a deal, with the Rand exchanging with the Dollar some 10 to 1. Throw in that food, drinks and gas are very cheap and it makes perfect sense to visit and tour this nation - it’s far less expensive then Europe and Americans are still happily welcome, as most Africans know how much we have helped their continent.

These tours start at just $3,330 and now South African Airways has been offering very good deals on airfare, and occasionally two for one.

If you want a true motorcycling adventure that you will never forget then check SAMA out at

www.samatours.co.za

The words go “When you see the Southern Cross for the first time, you’ll understand why you came this way.” Maybe it should go, “When you see the Southern Cross for the last time. You’ll know deep inside why you’ll return one day.”

View our South Africa video: www.youtube.com/user/BACKROADSMAG