TG Newsletter: Chikita Goes South

I always feel guilty for taking leave because Skinny almost never can, but I always go anyway and never regret it.

Chikita Goes South

(13 - 28 December 2024)

This was one of those trips, to see if I still had it in me, because after being sat down the week before, and told by Skinny and Crispy in the style of an intervention, that they feel they've pretty much ticked off all their bucket list adventures and had little further interest in doing "crazy" explorations and "technical" stuff, I was more than just a little upset, having been left out of this shocking decision.

Now, I know I don't contribute much to the group besides the occasional photo/video but I've still earned my place. These are my riding buddies. My people!

Anyway, Nellie is still in the workshop, but I was lucky enough to borrow Kapow. I had one job: Ride something writeable. And my side hustle was to get some colour into these legs before AntiPants! But more about that later.

Day four of four (so far) was overcast but dry for a change, so I pulled the reigns down in Africa, KZN, Southcoast, steering the unchartered Kapow towards uncharted territories to get a feel for his fuel range. Unlike my Nellie, he has a standard sized tank and no working speedo/ODO.

I rode some off-the-map single-track on the edge of a banana plantation, three or four steel bridges, more farm roads further inland and later, a bit of bitumen backroads. I stopped at Suzuki Margate, and popped by the pier for some pictures, and to pick all those creepy, clingy seeds off my pants.

Pennington's Basset Breweries felt like a good place to turn back around. I had one Barking Blonde ale and one Boondog Saints pale ale and burped Bulawayo all the way home.

I needed more though. The weather had not been kind, forty days and forty nights I ate pancakes. On the rare occasions where a 3mm layer of sunshine broke through the cloud cover, I pointed my belly button at it instead of going riding.

On the cold and grey days, I busied myself indoors with naps, crossword puzzles, and birdwatching.

Merry Crisis! I checked out the butterfly place and afterwards wanted to grab lunch at the waffle house but that was packed so I went for sushi instead but they were closing early so I ended up at Mulligan's (Southbroom golf course's clubhouse) when, across from me, I spot the one and only Brad Binder, home for the holidays! I plunged into the "we're not worthy!"-gesture from Wayne's World and he cracked a smile. It was electrifying.

A three-day window opened up in the forecast, for which I planned a crazy exploration with lots of technical stuff.

Heading even further south than the Southcoast. Into the Eastern Cape. This was the Wild Coast.

If you look at the map, you will not find a single section of straight road. It's all humps and curves down there. And when it's not neat little villages, it's impenetrable, Amazonian bush. Nothing in between. Cattle, goats, donkeys, sheep, pigs, geese and traffic on the wrong side of the road that would either swerve at the last minute, or not. Wild Coast.

Navigation required laser-like focus, fuel availability being the main reason I couldn't afford to get lost. I effectively dialled the GPS to the shortest route, which I figured would be easily passable by bike compared to any Hi-Ace, but in taking certain shortcuts I still ended up on steep bicycle tracks, and narrow walkways between houses. There were some funny looks from residents, but the bright pink luggage instantly pardoned me from any potential trespassing punishments.

From Lusikisiki (my new favourite town) I celebrated the shit out of the smooth tar surface with a few close calls in the corners down to Port St Johns. Stunning, stunning ride if you can stand endless flowy bends.

By the time my ass shook, rattled and rolled into Coffee Bay, everyone was already there! It was Boxing Day and the sports grounds were abuzz with boozy youths. It was a vibe!

My very thorough map app had a final shortcut to deliver. One awkward little river crossing later and I arrived at my backpackers' backdoor. After about seven hours on the bike I'd truly earned my first cold one! As well as the subsequent others...

Backpackers. The polar opposite of wild camping. Where strangers are automatically friends based purely on sharing a communal space. It's brilliant, but only as long as you don't need sleep.

I rolled out of my rondavel at a quarter to five the next morning to catch the breath-taking sunrise I'd been wishing for ever since I landed on the coast all those weeks ago.

It was going to be a great day. I'd signed up for a surfing lesson and my instructor was David Malherbe, an SA masters champion, as it turned out. The backbone of surfing is push-ups. I did more push-ups that morning than my whole life combined! But I nailed my foot placement early on and managed a few good go's. I also inhaled many litres of saltwater and persistently saw my arse, but it was the most fun I'd had since last month's newsletter!

We were done by ten just as the bar opened, which was no accident and where I spent most of the rest of the day. I only made a quick fuel run to Ngcwanguba so that I'd be all prepped and ready to head back early the next morning.

I opted for a more car friendly route and found some tar halfway to Port St Johns this time. It was great, but with no less free-roaming livestock than the dirt roads and it was also beginning to rain the closer I got to Lusikisiki. Kapow topped up with juice again and myself, a brave garage pie, we set off to check out Magwa Falls, about twenny kays outta town and just a smidge out of my way, but I was feeling touristy.

4km from the falls, we had to turn back with a flat front tire. My lucky streak had ended. But then I got it back again. Dunlop Express Grace Tyres supplied tools and manpower, and in about ninety minutes we had patched the puncture. There was no nail, just a tiny, mysterious hole in the tube.

As we replaced the wheel, without warning, the top left bolt on the axle clamp snapped right off. Big guy said no, I must do it, he's clearly too strong. So with my gentle touch, I broke the top right one as well. But don't worry, we made a plan.

After the day I had, this waterfall was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Pile of car wrecks at the bottom and all.

Because I'd lost so much time, all the rural roads were out of my daylight budget, so I had to face facts that the R61 was my fate. I was happy to be home though, tired and hungry. And while this may not have been a bucket list story, to me it was an adventure all the same.

My last day was spent doing things in sunshine before heading back to start preparing in earnest for AntiPants - Antipoaching!

This year, we fight bumcheek-to-bumcheek for our pangolins, and you can find all the details by clicking the Facebook link below:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/antipantsantipoaching/

Danglin' for the pangolin!

Broeke lôs vir ietermagôs!

CHIKITA PRODUCTIONS PRESENT:

Five minutes of endless east coast riding. Take a break and watch the video… it’s the least you can do!

Video produced by Jolandi Mentz (13 Dec 2024)

https://youtu.be/ZVQWrtk-xtg

SPONSORS:

Sponsored by Daniel Mulder Distributors (DMD) www.dmd.co.za

Forma Boots (www.formaboots.com)

Caberg Helmets (www.caberg.it)

Oxford Products (www.oxfordproducts.com)

Givi (www.givi.ite)

Answer Racing (www.answerracing.com)

Off Road Cycles (www.offroadcycles.co.za)

2M Lazy Lowder (www.2mtrailers.co.za)

PaintAbike by Phil Privett (www.instagram.com/paintabikesa)

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