It’s Monday. My wife, Tania, suggests that we ride to Die Hel, otherwise known as Gamkaskloof between Oudtshoorn and Prince Albert, on our new second-hand motorbike. Without a baggage rack. Without experience of riding pillion. And without a clue what the road will be like. That’s why I married her.
The rest of the week passes in a whirl.
On Tuesday I learn to weld so I can make a luggage rack (I once helped a friend, but have never welded on my own).
On Wednesday I realise the bolts with which the baggage rack has to be fitted to the frame are the wrong size.
Thursday after work I buy other bolts and drill bigger holes in the rack. More than two hours and a broken drill bit later, we take the whole contraption on a (wonky) test drive around the block.
At home we unpack everything, rearrange, weigh our baggage and, at the insistence of the bathroom scale, remove the extra tubes and pump.
The shop tags on our motorbike jackets are ripped off in front of the mirror.
Tomorrow afternoon we hit the long haul ...

A slight snag ...

Friday we sneak out of the office after lunch. We make the final adjustments to the mountain of luggage on the back of the bike, and then we’re out of the gate.
The first time we read the Cape Nature brochure on Die Hel − or Gamkaskloof − is over a burger and chips in Worcester.
We’re shocked to learn that no motorbikes are allowed into Gamkaskloof without prior permission.
We call Erika, the contact person for bookings in Gamkaskloof, and ask permission to go. She’s hesitant because heavy rains have washed away parts of the road from the Swartberg Pass down into the kloof. After explaining that we’re spending the night near Barrydale and have all of the next day to drive into the valley, she gives us the nod.
We continue, but have to refuel in Robertson. The tank is smaller than we thought.
After yet another stop − in Montagu to buy meat − we pull in for the night at the Karoo Saloon, near Barrydale. The owner’s bull terrier Titan is one of our companions around a table creaking under braaivleis that night.
We sleep like babies on the soft mattresses, vaguely suspecting that tomorrow night’s sleep on the hard earth in Die Hel will be less forgiving.

Through the gates of Hell

We drive through Barrydale before the fog has lifted the next morning. In Ladismith we have to refuel once more, and double-check that all our baggage is still with us.
Now for the long straight to Oudtshoorn ...
The Huis River Pass helps to keep us awake. In Oudtshoorn, we buy ice cream and toasted sandwiches, and refuel a last time. The tank is good for 250 km, but how far will we be driving before we’re back here?
Finally, amid scorching afternoon heat, we hit the Swartberg Pass’ gravel road – the big test.
We know we bought the motorbike for gravel roads such as this one, but only now will we see how the green-and-purple monster handles the loose stones and corners.
The motorbike’s on-road tyres handle the gravel surprisingly well. But the thought of the extra tubes that had to be left behind makes me wary of sharp stones.
After about 25 km on the Swartberg Pass, we reach the gates of Gamkaskloof on the left. It’s a harsh place. Who will come to fetch us if we have a breakdown? How far will we be able to walk in this heat? We’re sweating like miners and the sun is taunting us.

First the road goes up. Then it goes down. After about two hours the road turns and the green kloof lies below us. Far below us.
Because the road is so steep, the weight of two people on the bike feels more like three, and by the time we stop at the bottom, my wrists are lame.
I’m also sitting quite uncomfortably – almost on top of the fuel tank – so Tania can sit in relative comfort between me and the baggage.
The biggest “hazard” in the pass is its desolation and natural beauty. On a motorbike you can easily drive over the edge on a sharp bend if you’re too distracted by the mountain slopes on the other side.
We drive down slowly, and stop often. We didn’t pass a stream without stopping to cool off, or gulping down a few mouthfuls of cold water.

Waters of peace

Cape Nature has reserved the honeymoon stand for us. Under the trees next to a narrow stream we unload, pitch the tent and explore the surroundings on the bike.
To still our hunger pangs and relieve our parched throats, we stop at the farm shop Fonteinplaas and gobble down chicken pie and salad. Here you can buy anything from insect repellent and cold beer to witblits.
After driving through three streams we reach the closed doors of Cape Nature’s museum. It’s just after four, minutes after closing time.
We turn around. Because we’re going at a snail’s pace and the bike’s fan doesn’t kick in, the temperature gauge’s warning light goes on. What now?

Tomorrow the Kawasaki has to take us and all our possessions out of Gamkaskloof. We turn around to the previous stream and lightly splash water onto the engine block until the light goes off, and drive back to our tent.
After splashing around in the water we take a blissful afternoon nap on the groundsheet next to the tent.
The shade is welcome, the birds calming and the problem with the bike temporarily forgotten ...
Just before dark, the caretaker at reception drops off three bags of firewood at our stand. That night we have a serious braai (followed by quite an uncomfortable sleep).

The road home

Bird calls are our alarm on Sunday morning, and it sounds just like Nature’s Valley in summer. Within an hour we’re packed and ready for the steep climb out of the kloof. Because I’m worried the bike might overheat I give it stick.
This is a great road for a motorbike. The corners follow in quick succession, with gradual uphills and downhills. It doesn’t take us very long to get out of the kloof, and after about an hour and a half we’re back on the Swartberg Pass. (Fortunately, the fan doesn’t play up again.)
The road home flies past, and it’s a pleasure to be able to unload everything in 10 minutes and flop down in front of the TV.
Right, now I’m waiting for the next suggestion.

What did we learn?

• Pack as little as possible.
• Make sure they allow motorbikes where you want to camp.
• Make sure your vehicle is properly serviced before departing.
• Ride responsibly in remote areas.
   If you get injured, you’re going to have to crawl very far.
• A 375 ml bottle of OBS is just as valuable as a blanket.
• Stop regularly, because a numb bum is quite a common problem when riding long
  distances on a motorbike.