The Epic GS Trophy Tour 2018: Day 2

Posted on May 7, 2018 Updated on May 11, 2018

Route: Kokstad to Queenstown via R56/R410

Waking up on the second day of a long bike trip that you weren’t physically prepared for is always an, uhm, “interesting” experience. You turn or shift in bed and a muscle screams “AAARGGGH!! I did not sign up for this!!” and all the other muscles and ligaments start clamouring for attention as your body takes inventory of every little ache and pain that seems to have magically developed “overnight”.

The BMW R1200GSA weighs around 235kg, unloaded. Packed, it probably weighs in at around 250kg and this beast is what we will be piloting on winding roads, gravel and rocks for the next 13 days. If you have a sidestand incident and need to pick up the bike (most likely while your mates are laughing raucously), your body will compain about it for the next day or two.

The Reunion

After a cup of cheap instant coffee (Yeuaagggg!) and a shower, we packed the bikes. Gielie, Grompie (Not their real names, obviously) and I had travelled down from Johannesburg and would rendezvous with Mielie (could be his real name, I’m not quite sure) in Kokstad, before continuing the trip towards Cape Town. The four of us had experienced our first Tropy together in 2015 and since then, it has become somewhat of a tradition to attend the event together every year. No matter how busy or broke you are, when Trophy time rolls around, you pack your bike and go.

When Mielie arrived it was like a reunion. Lots of bear hugs and backslapping, interspersed with insults about paunches and grey hairs. When the four of us get together it only takes about 5 minutes before the ragging starts and this year was no exception.

The Pairing

If you’re a biker who uses bike to bike comms, you’ll understand the pain in the ass that setting up device pairings can be. To the uninitiated, bikers sometimes uses bluetooth devices to communicate while riding. It’s like a mini intercom system between the riders that can be used to warn riders behind you about upcoming road or traffic conditions. In our case, we normally use it to continue ribbing each other about riding ability or any other topic that presents itself.

Setting up fourway communication via these communications is a nightmare. Each device has to be paired using a master/slave relationship before it is connected to another master/slave pair. Inevitably, the link between one master/slave is lost as soon as the new connection is initiated and if the correct procedure is not used, the next 20 minutes consists of “ok, now you pair with me!” (Lots of hur hurs and ribbing) and “ag nee fokkit man, press the button until it beeps!” and “bugger this for a game of soldiers, let’s just use hand signals!”

After about half an hour or so,  everyone was at last connected. From now on, there would be very little silence when riding, unless you deactivate the device like I sometimes do when I need some solitude.

The Route

After arriving in Kokstad the previous night, we had ridden through the little town to our guesthouse. We were amazed at the amount of traffic and milling crowds until we realized that mass protest action was taking place. This morning everything was quiet except for the town’s version of rush hour: a few bakkies, cars and a tractor or two slowly spluttering along the main road.

The route we planned to ride was straight forward and boring: tar all the way with plenty of Stop and Gos. One of our crew had had a minor fall the fay before and injured his knee and ankle so any technical riding was out of the question. From Kokstad, we would be heading to Matatiele before passing through places with interesting names like Mt Fltcher, Katkop, Maclear, Ugie, Elliot, Cala amd Greyspan before arrivng in Queenstown.

Except for some nice twisties outside Mt Fletcher that allowed me to test the adhesion of the Metzeler Karoo knobblies, I was riding with, the trip was uneventful. We stopped for brunch in Maclear where the chef and I would have come to blows about what the term “crispy chips” actually means, except for the fact that she was much bigger and tougher than I am. Completely unrelated, slap tjips can actually be quite palatable if you have to eat them.

The Arrival
The guest house in Queenstown was comfortable even though serious water restrictions were in place. Some of us opted for a plunge in the icy pool in lieu of taking a shower while others decided to just let those around them deal with the aroma.

After braaing some lamb chops and steaks on the braai and drinking a cold beer or two, we headed off to bed.

Tomorrow was going to be another long day.

The Epic GS Trophy Tour 2018: Day 1

Posted on May 1, 2018 Updated on May 1, 2018

“Manne, gaan ons dié jaar die Trophy doen?”

This is pretty much how it starts every year. Once every 12 months, 4 diehard adventure bikers embark on a 5-day bike trip to attend an offroad biking weekend organized by BMW. Thousands of BMW adventure bikers roll in from all corners of South Africa to spend the weekend navigating tar, green (easy), orange (intermediate), red (advanced) or black (do you have a fucking deathwish!??) routes mapped out by the organizers.

Invariably the responses to this important question range from “Absofuckinglutely!”, to “Definitely!” This is our thing. A web developer, medical doctor and 2 IT specialists who work their asses off during the rest of the year commit to taking a week off every year to experience camaraderie, sore butts and adrenal terror. We all agree that we don’t get enough opportunities to ride our bikes so when the GS Trophy comes around, it would take a catastrophe to make us miss out on it.

It’s not all fun and games however. Heck, sometimes after spending a whole day playing in the dirt and mud on our bikes we actually have to return to basecamp and force down several ice cold beers! This isn’t for everyone, I can tell you! Sometimes things go wrong. One of us manages to drop a bike on our leg and break an ankle. Perhaps a front wheel is destroyed  at speed on a gravel road and we need to do a makeshift repair with a hammer, wild swings and a lot of cursing. And yet no matter what happens, when we return home after several thousand kilometres with sore asses and muscle sprains we all agree that THIS trip was the best one ever!

The trip planning usually starts with the serious business of planning the route. Road surfaces, weather conditions and the toughness of our ass cheeks are all factored into the equation and after some heated discussion and perhaps a few beets, the itinerary is finalized. Next, the discussion about the packing lists start. Little old ladies who are planning a shopping expedition to stock up on heart pills and blue rinse couldn’t be more finicky than these 4 grown men. Entire auto workshops could run on the list of “emergency tools” we decide to carry between us. Small countries could be fed with the number of breakfast bars loaded into our topboxes. Entire pharmacies could be stocked with the hemorrhoid cream— You get the idea.

This year, 3 of us traveled down from Joburg while the other one plotted an intercepting route from the east coast. Today was the first leg of the route and all of us seem to be on our last legs. We covered about 680 kms on tar and loose gravel, managed to grab a quick Indian pale all at a brewery and arrived at the guesthouse with enough aches and pains to keep the staff of Greys Anatomy busy for an entire season.

Route Day 1:

N3 to Harrismith, then R74 past Sterkfontein dam, R103 to Escourt, R617 to Kokstad.

Tomorrow, the saga continues.