You know, some of my most profound moments in life have been through being on the back of a motorcycle, riding through many amazing countries, none more so than South Africa. Being on a bike is completely different from being in a car doing the same thing, although that can be special too. It’s just that, on a motorcycle, you are so much more a part of the landscape: you feel the heat, you have a hundred different smells in your nostrils and you are interacting with – and relying on – the ground under your wheels every step of the way.
It’s a challenge and every challenge met and conquered is another feather in your cap; you’re never not feeling a level of fear – perhaps trepidation is a better word – but, later, you sit sipping a cold beer watching the sunset on another glorious day and look back over the kilometres with satisfaction and a huge sense of achievement.
There was a moment on this latest trip, when we sat atop ancient rocks at the top of a hill, watching the shadows lengthen over the vast landscape, stretching from the Limpopo River across the endless plains of Botswana at the end of another brilliant day, that a huge sense of peace came over me. The view was utterly mesmerising and beautiful and, not for the first time, I wondered how I was going to adjust when I returned to Johannesburg, let alone trying to describe it to friends who have never been there.
Maybe you don’t; you just encourage them to come and see it for themselves. It’s only when you live in a city such as Johannesburg and escape to the countryside that you really appreciate it; this is the real Africa. And the best thing is that, on a trip such as this, you are experiencing it with people who also appreciate it and that makes it all the more special.
The tour was arranged by John Gilbert and Heine Englebrecht of Tuli Tours Africa. The premise was simple; ride to Alldays in Limpopo and thence to Limpokwana Lodge, sitting on the banks of the Limpopo River or, as readers of a certain generation would know it, thanks to Rudyard Kipling, the “great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees.” From there, we would ride into Botswana for the day and back out, fully immersing ourselves in the landscape and, as it turned out, the heat which, even at the end of winter, topped out at 37 degrees! What must it be like in summer?
If I had been ill-confident about riding through the sand at the beginning of the weekend, by the end I was no less terrified but a lot more competent. It doesn’t faze me if I know the sand is there in front of me and I can prepare myself mentally before setting off from a standing start, but when it appears suddenly on a previously-firm dirt road along which you are travelling at 80-100 km/h; that’s when it properly unnerves me. Then, there’s no choice but to put into practice the mantra that every dirt rider intones – stand up, look up and open up. It turns out that it does work, as long as you’re not scared completely witless by the bike moving around underneath you in a seemingly uncontrollable series of snaking movements.
That I survived is a testament to the truth of the mantra; doesn’t mean I enjoyed it, though! What I did enjoy was riding through the incredibly dry but endlessly beautiful landscape in the Tuli Reserve in the south of Botswana.
Friday was spent getting to Limpokwana and the riverside bush camp, which is completely open to the wandering game; elephants and giraffes were spotted in abundance, as were plenty of bucks, and crocodiles and hippos were seen although, happily, the latter pair seldom venture into the camp or so I’m told! Sunday morning around 4 a.m. I found myself being woken by remarkably soft-stepping elephants right next to the tent. Don’t get that happening too often in Johannesburg!
Saturday morning, up and out early. Straight onto the dirt roads, all in very good condition. The border crossing through the Platjan Gate was quick and easy: just as well, as standing around waiting in the heat was getting unbearable, although the staff refused to be anything other than friendly and helpful even when faced with 15 sweaty riders.
Into Botswana and, as any seasoned traveller will tell you, it might be only a few hundred meters between one country and the next but the change is remarkable. It’s impossible to put a finger on the difference, but it’s there. The riding was no easier or worse, the heat was just as unbearable, the landscape just as vast and beautiful and yet, we knew we were in a different country.
Not that I had much time to reflect on that as the roads continued in much the same fashion, meaning attention really had to be on the road at all times. But that just made you stop and take a good look around more often.
The day continued hot and dusty but never dull. The group split, one bunch taking a more technical route, suitable for plastic bikes and the braver of the adventure bike riders, while the rest of us continued over an easier route to the gate into the Tuli Game reserve, through which one is allowed to ride. It was baking hot as we sat patiently awaiting the technical bunch, who had to navigate a very wide section of a completely dry river, the sand being thick and deep, delaying their progress a little.
So the miles rolled under our wheels and we stopped briefly to watch a large herd of elephants with several young in their numbers at a watering hole. The presence of the young caused us all to be wary as an angry matriarch is not something you want to be in front of. It was still magical to be sharing the land with the true natives and eventually, they wandered off, as did we.
Leaving Botswana through the Point Drift border post, the road turned back to tar, the prospect of the first of many beers swimming in our minds. Perhaps they were swimming too noisily for the road conditions, which could be fairly described as a series of potholes surrounded by a bit of road.
I’d lowered the tyre pressures on the Suzuki for the off-road riding and, to be honest, had not taken this fully into account as I navigated the slalom course that was this section of road. Predictably, one hole caught me out and I hit it a fair old whack with the front wheel. I thought I had got away with it but, a few kilometres further up the road – having just looked at the dashboard and, seeing the outside temperature gauge reading 37° and thinking to myself, ‘I wouldn’t want to have to stop here’ – I realised all was not right and pulled up. Sure enough: a flat tyre.
There are many facets of pleasure in such a trip. First, there is the countryside you are riding through – the key word being “ride”, with the sky as your ceiling and the horizon as your windows. But possibly the most important aspect is the company you are keeping whilst doing it.
It matters not that you know no one at the beginning of the weekend; within a few miles, you have formed a bond. At the end of the first day, you are firm friends. By the end of the weekend, you are a band of brothers and, in this case, sisters.
There’s another important aspect of this type of riding across this type of landscape. That is you can put your ego completely aside and never worry about admitting that you are in above your head and really need some help; someone will always put their hand up and help out. The same goes for when you hit trouble; you’ll never be left alone and, sure enough, soon the stricken Suzuki and I had plenty of company.
Now, here I must confess to being that worst of types: the journalist who always assumes that someone else will have the tools and expertise to mend what I have so carelessly managed to break. It’s a consequence of too many launches where all you have to do is hold up your hand, say sorry, and hope there’s another bike you can jump on to (there usually is!)
So it was that I was travelling completely ill-equipped to deal with the current situation. I had, in fact, brought a small tool roll with me but, having nowhere to carry it other than in my hydration pack, chose to leave it at the lodge. Mind you, there was not one tool in it that would have helped in the current situation so it turned out that the biggest tool on the motorcycle was myself…
Luckily, John had everything we needed and, in no time at all, the wheel was out and we attempted to change the inner tube (on the V-Strom 1050 DE the front wheel is tubed, the rear tubeless.)
Now, I don’t know how many of you have tried to do this in 37° heat, with a million flies around your head, on the side of the road with nothing more substantial than a couple of tyre levers but, well, it’s not all that easy. However, with many hands on board, we managed it, only to find that we’d pinched the new inner tube putting it in. The thought of trying it all again with a second spare tube was more than we could bear, so we flagged down a passing bakkie, threw the bike on the back and completed the journey to Alldays and the life-saving Clarky’s Pride bar. Never has a cold beer tasted so good.
The plan was to come back the next day, Sunday, collect the bike and take it back to the lodge where we could work on it at our leisure. John and I made it to Clarky’s with a trailer and…well, that’s where the plan went awry. We did look at the bike, honest, but, well, you know; it was hot, the bar refreshingly cool, as was the beer, so we settled down to discussing the problem at length and decided there really was nothing we could come up with that was better than leaving the bike there and picking it up on our way back out the next day. You’d be surprised how much beer that type of thought takes…
As it turned out, it was just as well that we did leave it. Unbeknown to us, we had bent one of the brake discs slightly while trying to break the bead of the tyre with the result that each time the wheel rotated, it knocked the calliper pistons back, meaning I would have had to pump the front brake every time I wanted to apply it. Not ideal.
Even though we had done no riding to speak of on Sunday, there was still one experience left to us; sundowners on a high peak, overlooking the camp, the Limpopo and the majesty of Botswana spreading out infinitely in front of us. The sun was setting, bathing the landscape in an orange-hued light, the shadows lengthening and nothing but peacefulness all around us. It was the perfect conclusion to a stunning weekend, full of variety, challenges, wildlife, landscapes, excellent food and drink, friendship, laughter and, perhaps most importantly, memories, not to mention a desire to get back here as soon as possible.
If, by any chance, you’ve always wanted to do a trip like this but somehow never got around to it, I can’t impress on you enough how essential to your well-being it will be, so go and do it now. Tuli Tours Africa runs tours throughout the year, John is the perfect tour leader/guide and there is not one bone in your body that will regret it.
The Bike
For this trip, I was fortunate enough to have the Suzuki V-Strom 1050 DE, the relatively newly-updated version, with a 21” front wheel, longer travel suspension and tweaked styling. As a card-carrying BMW GS fan, it was going to be interesting to see how the Suzuki would measure up.
The verdict? As far as my inadequate skills allow me to decide, the Suzuki does everything the BMW does, at a much lower cost. How does saving R100,000 sound? And that’s on a base R1300 GS, mind; start perusing the options list and there will be plenty you can add to that price.
The Suzuki might lose out on adaptive suspension and a few more of the largely extraneous electronic goodies but it has everything you need and loses very little you might miss. It comes with lean-sensitive ABS and traction control, both of which have multiple levels of intervention and both of which can be turned off (the ABS at the rear wheel only), cruise control and manually adjustable suspension.
Comfort is good, the engine is a torque-laden peach, there’s an up-and-down quick shifter, the TFT dash is clear and easy to read and, if Suzuki doesn’t know how to build a bulletproof motorcycle, I don’t know who does.
The only question you need to ask yourself is, what could I do with R100,000? Quite apart from that, the Suzuki is well worth a look and a test ride. We’ll publish a full report on the bike in due course.
Suzuki V-Strom 1050 DE
For more information on the bike featured in this article, click on the link below…
