They say, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step” (Lao Tzu). You don’t get to the 1000 without initiating the first. It’s that initial start that most of us find ever so difficult for anything we aim to accomplish in life.
In 2023, I had the privilege of covering the renowned Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride (DGR). In a nutshell, it is a prestigious globally acclaimed ride that takes place every May intending to raise funds towards prostate cancer research and raise awareness towards men’s mental health.
Having gone through several personal challenges, some of which I am still in recovery from today, it was a cause that remained close to my heart. Mainly because too often, after significant events, the core message and intended impact withers shortly after. This was a cause all too important to allow to succumb to such a reality.
For the 2024 Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride, I wanted to do something different, something bold.
“Take a ride from Pretoria to Cape Town, CBD to CBD and along the way, conduct impromptu interviews with bikers from all walks of life and capture their story of how biking has potentially and positively impacted their mental health.” Brilliant thought, brilliant idea Thabang! Except, at the time of this initial thought, I had no possession of a suitable motorbike to execute such a concept.
Eventually, at the beginning of 2024, I bought back my first love, Origin. A first-gen and may I add, super sleek Suzuki GSX 150 SF. I spent the next couple of months crunching the numbers and calculating fuel efficiency and ETAs. By my optimistic calculations, I could make it to Cape Town on approximately R1500 worth of fuel.
Sounds ridiculous, I know, but hear me out. The Suzuki GSX 150 SF has a 12L tank with an air-cooled engine. On a full tank, I comfortably and consistently got about 350 km with a pacy riding speed. What I jokingly like to think is that the route cause of its frugalness is that when Suzuki designed the ‘SF’, they developed its aerodynamics in the same wind tunnel that enhanced the performance of the Busa, GSX-R and MotoGP bikes. In essence, it’s designed not only to be ergonomically friendly and suitable for the rider but also to minimise wind drag and turbulence. Which in all honesty cannot be true, but let’s just go with it.
With a departure date set, the main priority now was the luggage setup and travel logistics. I knew my best bet would be to acquire side bags and install them along the frame adjacent to the passenger seat. Thanks to the Gixxer’s backend frame, this was the perfect compliment to Givi’s side bags with the main velcro straps attaching securely underneath the seat. For additional support and prime positioning, open loop straps were looped in and around the metal frame just above the passenger footpegs and through the smartly placed loops on the side bags themselves. Another rounded Givi bag was placed perpendicularly on the passenger seat for filming gear.
For efficient navigation, communication and much-needed entertainment, I fitted my helmet with an exceptional Bluetooth set from SENA, the SENA SF2 to be precise. Honestly, this gave me quite a bit of peace of mind knowing that I had sufficient battery life thanks to the kit’s brilliant usage time as well as standby time.
Before we take off, bear in mind that on average, I found myself in transit for seven and a half hours. That was the estimate Google Maps had provided for a car, and I was certain I could pull it off faster…” I’m on a bike”, I said to myself. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
At this point, in theory, I’m all set and ready to go. However, part of the logistical nightmare was the fact that I’d be embracing the road completely solo. Riding the Garden Route was an absolute must, most certainly after hearing endless tales about how scenic it is. On the other side of the coin, this meant that I would be looking at a total of 2300+km as opposed to the 1500+km had I chosen the inland Pretoria to Cape Town diagonal through Bloemfontein.
That’s 2300+km. Pretoria to Cape Town. One man. One bike. (A bike that is completely unsuited for such a trip.) No room for error. No mistakes. No ‘nada’. Over 4 days and 3 nights.
The plan was to make it to Cape Town by Friday afternoon:
- Tuesday – Depart from Pretoria (CBD) to arrive in Pinetown.
- Wednesday – Depart from Pinetown to arrive in East London.
- Thursday – Depart from East London to arrive in Knysna.
- Friday – Depart from Knysna to finally arrive in Cape Town CBD.
The night before…
The reality is, I was insanely nervous. I had not packed a single bag by 09:00 PM Monday night. My best mate and I spent time fitting rear brake pads, only to find out I was provided with the wrong set, unsuited for my 2015 model in particular. This added insult to injury, knowing now that I would have to do some running around on the day of departure to not only secure the correct brake pads but also find a workshop that could fit them right away.
Come Tuesday morning, even my family was convinced I wouldn’t be following through with this insane trip. I wasn’t either. The cross-road was, being bound by my word. Being bound by my commitment to my mates. Bound to the whole purpose of this ride, “The Rider’s Mental Health” short film. I knew I couldn’t back out no matter what.
By the time it was all said and done, and I hit the road, it was 16:45. It was at about 200 km in, that I genuinely felt it would really be okay to turn back and just try this whole thing another day you know? “Surely no one would blame me.” These are the real thoughts that hit you when you’re travelling at 100 km/h. “It’s a marathon, not a sprint.” My mate had advised. It doesn’t help when you find yourself making absolutely no progress relative to the grander distance still needing to be covered.
It didn’t matter how often I checked and double-checked my ETA, it stated I would touchdown in Pinetown by 01:15, Wednesday morning. My comical optimism of beating the estimate had fully dissipated now. I journeyed on, toll gate after toll gate, paying around R269 (5 tolls) in toll fees altogether.
First challenge…
Note, I am most certainly not a seasoned traveller let alone a solo-traveller on a motorbike. I was advised to take backup bottles of oil, but I didn’t. I was advised to purchase emergency cables should the clutch or throttle cable snap, I completely forgot about that too. One major element I hadn’t factored in, was the total loaded weight and the effect it would have on fuel efficiency. Along the way, my fuel was near depletion and I was now in an area where the signal was terrible. In a panic, I stopped and checked for the nearest fueling station. I was prompted by Google Maps to take the next off-ramp and proceed for approximately 25 minutes up until which I would come across the fuel station.
Soon enough, the navigation led me to an unexpected dirt road. I knew something was wrong. In the midst of all of this, the night was dark and awfully quiet, with only a full moon in my company. I was content with calling it a night, pitching the tent up by the embankment, laying Origin on her side and catching some shut-eye. It really couldn’t have been any safer.
Unfortunately, time was ticking and I had to stay on schedule, well, at least as close to it as possible. I switched over to Waze navigation and established a new highly probable route to the next fueling station. Bearing in mind, if it was indeed wrong, I’d be left stranded.
Half an hour later, I can tell you, I downright nearly gave that petrol attendant a heck of a hug. One of the worst things I experienced throughout these lengthy hours on the road, was the sheer fatigue your body experiences, most especially in your legs. I often found myself sitting with half a butt cheek off the seat, MotoGP style, without the Marquez lean. Other times, I stood and stretched my legs out.
I eventually did come across a life-threatening situation. Regret was at an all-time high at this point and I genuinely feared for my life. Riding towards Pinetown I encountered a deep mist and fog. Most unfortunately, I wear spectacles. Now, I have mist coming onto my lenses as well as onto my helmet’s visor. No adequate street lights were illuminating the road. I could not discern how far I was to either road barriers, to my right or left. Quick thinking led me to catch up to the nearest truck up ahead, knowing he had far better visibility than what I was experiencing at that moment. I rode a couple of 100 metres behind it and aimed to remain bang-on central to his two brake lights.
I soon became accustomed to not trying to make or meet the estimated arrival times but to try and manage the bike and the journey as best as possible. I checked into Pinetown, my cousin’s place, at 01:19 and got some much-needed rest. I eased my Gixxer onto the dirt road and safely parked at one of the two-storey flats, typical of a motel you’d see in a movie.
Being fully rested and after a quick breakfast from the local Spar, I hit the road en route to East London. This was by far the longest stretch… An approximate distance of 625 km needed to be covered. It was the first time I saw double digits clock in for the estimated arrival time. Do consider, that there were a significant number of road works that led to 25-30 minute delays. But judging by the riding pleasure I had on them, they certainly were worth the wait. Nothing like being able to skip to the front and have a blitz run behind the ‘safety car’ leading you to the other side. Similarly, it was quite the experience when the GPS led me to test my bike’s off-roading capabilities after taking a detour that led me on a dirt road extending for 10 or so kilometres with no other cars in sight. I guess that’s what one gets when they are fully at the mercy of navigation systems in unfamiliar territories.
My biker brother Phiko (PK), who I’d met back in 2022 covering an M109R ride, was awaiting my arrival and gladly assisted me with accommodation for the night. With his assistance, I was blessed to be connected to an Airbnb owner who’d come out of his way to open up the units on the property and showed me to my pristine room.
I bid my farewells, took some additional content including a short clip with PK about “Why he rides” and hit the road. But before leaving East London, I called another biker bro who I’d met at the same event. Lucky. Upon pre-ride inspection, I realised very quickly that I was completely out of oil. I was running 10W-60 synthetic oil. Uncommon to the bike, where it typically runs on 10W-40. I had only made the change recently and just realised she was running so much better.
I popped through to Lucky’s workshop. His jaw was found on the floor when the realisation hit that I had been riding all the way from Pretoria with my little Gixxer. With laughs all around, “You’re crazy bra! On that thing. Nie man.” He sorted me out with an oil top-up. I went on to capture an impromptu interview with him and bid my farewell. I filled up the tank and the tyres, running 2.2 up front and 2.4 at the rear.
The sad part about how things were unfolding at this point, is that I simply underestimated how much travel time I’d succumb to. There was just not enough time to move around within these major cities themselves to get more interviews composed. Even more so, whenever I could, you’d find that my devices were low on battery.
One thing I can tell you though, I met some profoundly incredible people along the way. From acquaintances, fellow bikers, to petrol attendants, to the passerby stopping me after seeing the GP licence plate or even the unusual travel setup of the Gixxer. All throughout, I continued to spread the word about the Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride high and low. It’s a cause that isn’t just limited to riders, just as how ill mental health doesn’t discriminate on gender.
We, as men, tend to have the heavier end of the stick. There’s just so much less support for us, so much less concern. It’s hard to be vulnerable and still be perceived as strong and respectable, more often than not it isn’t the case. It’s amazing and seldom praised how resilient we actually are. We forever make a way even where there seems to be no way. Our women turn to us not only for support but for leadership and guidance, even when we truthfully aren’t certain which direction to take ourselves, unbeknownst to them. “It’ll work out somehow, someway.” A mantra we live by.
By Thursday morning, before departing from East London, I actually had no idea where I would be staying that evening. I settled on Knysna after finding a backpacker accommodation that charged a mere R150 for the night. Naturally, there were various room options, so I decided on a mixed 6 bunker bedroom. I would highly recommend this backpacker, Island Vibe for any individual of any appropriate age.
Having clocked in at the backpacker around 20:30, I settled in. I greeted my fellow roommate, Lisa I think it was, and then soon found myself by the fire pit with a couple of gin and dry lemons. This was the one night where I intentionally took time to take it all in, taking inventory of the journey so far. I was at peace, the sort of peace that money cannot buy. A peace that is derived from within. Looking up at the clear night sky and a luminous full moon, I felt a smile stretch across my face.
It hit me that, in as much as I was technically ‘failing’ with the larger intended purpose of riding down the coastline and filming all these short interviews. I realised all of this was less about the road and time in transit, and more about the traveller. You can’t pour from an empty cup. In the end, we are far more effective and influential in our circles when we are somewhat ‘okay’. Three days into this crazy trip, on this moonlit night, it was crucial to take this pause to be present and sit with all these experiences flowing through my mind…
I woke up replenished, suffering only from a soft lingering echo from my roommate’s all-night snore. Another element that completely slipped my mind was the possibility of rain. I was officially on the fourth day and soon to start this final leg, and hence came the rain. This shifted the goal post target of arriving in CPT before 05:00 PM. I conducted the necessary pre-ride checks, and let Origin idle as I put on my full rain suit.
In the midst of all of this, I bumped into a curious stranger who was captivated by the bike idling outside. I have an Air Age full exhaust system from the legendary Jerry Anassis, so yes, it did have quite the sound echoing through. He was a fellow journalist, having covered many international stories and ones all throughout South Africa. We ended up speaking for nearly half an hour and he took such a liking to this crazy trip I was on and the greater purpose behind it.
The stretch from Knysna to Cape Town was breathtakingly beautiful. Every kilometre was such a joy, from the twisty roads along the beaches to the mountain passes. It was a tad humid but most certainly bearable. It’s hard to put into words what an experience it was travelling the Garden Route.
I arrived in Cape Town at exactly 16:45 and I couldn’t have been more overjoyed. I pushed a relentlessly hot pace from the jump knowing how much time I already lost from the morning rain. I actually made it. 2300+km later, a solo rider and his Gixxer 150 with some Givi side bags, central CBD to coastal CBD. What a win for the small cc category.
I spent the next week settling in, reaching out to a couple of different bikers and scheduling the last set of interviews.
I would love to extend a special thanks to Michael, Ruth, Joshua, Dylan and the crew at Triumph Motorcycles CPT. Simply for seeing the value behind my ‘crazy’ trip and supporting me all throughout. Another special thanks goes out to my fellow bikers who were an integral part of this trip and their heartfelt input to my deep line of questioning.
All in all, the film project didn’t go according to plan. However, I truly believe that “One man can change the world.” Similarly, “One man’s story can change the world.” If all I did this entire trip was capture one video that could potentially touch one individual and impact their life, then, in that sense—I and this trip were a large success.
I hope this video will resonate with you and I hope you will share it, even with just one person who you believe will be touched and inspired by it.
