The 125km trip should take between 10 and 12 hours, so I will be riding into the night.
Often my rides begin by going through the Braamfontein Spruit. It has its con's, but I live only two blocks away and for shear convenience it is hard to fault the The Spruit. Today would be no different.
The first landmark that you may recognize is the Virgin Active at the bottom of Rustenburg Road in Victory Park.
I'm a member here, but don't go nearly enough. If only it were like riding a bike out in the countryside.
The first landmark that you may recognize is the Virgin Active at the bottom of Rustenburg Road in Victory Park.
I'm a member here, but don't go nearly enough. If only it were like riding a bike out in the countryside.
Probably almost a year ago, the Spruit Fairies added this new slipway that takes one down to the bottom of the bridge on the bend in Rustenburg Road. Much safer and a really welcome improvement to the trail.
The Spruit Fairies is a small group of anonymous individuals, responsible for most of the improvements and maintenance along this trail and they do it for the shear love of the ride.
Graffiti adorns the walls of most bridges along the trail and I must say most of it is very good. It changes reasonably regularly. It might even be worth while keeping a pictorial diary of this urban art form as it exists along The Spruit.
My route then took me up to Emmarentia Dam and along the dam wall towards the Barry Hertzog Esses. It then skirts along the Melville Koppies and along the front of Chamber of mines soccer fields.
I belonged to the soccer club whilst a student. Man, that was like 30kg ago!
From the Gas Works Tanks I proceeded into the suburb of Fordsburg and then the heavens opened up.
The cloudburst was as dramatic as it was sudden and I took shelter with some fellow who had just finished his shift at Jimmy's Killer Prawn. "Natural Prawn Killers" was the catch phrase on the back of his T-shirt.
Naturally, we chatted about the weather. I put on some wet weather gear, asked him if he would mind taking a photo and we parted ways. I wonder if our paths will ever cross again.
Quite a colourful place is Fordsburg and busy for a Saturday afternoon. From here I rode to Booysens and on past the Rand Water Board Head Office. This is the part of the journey that is least pleasant. It is basically all tar and though you can stay on the fringes of it, you can never get away.
About 30km's from my home I pass Thaba Trails and then I hook onto the tar road near the Panorama Flying Club and into the countryside and large tracts of Rand Water Property.
I have taken pictures of the Klip River and this bridge on numerous occasions. If the water is low enough you can travel under the R59 by using the concrete apron seen here on the right. We first discovered this bypass whilst riding our offroad motor cycles here years ago.
My first stop was here at the Santa Lucia Supermarket. This is close to the Klip River and right next to the railway track where I would pick up the service road. This is a big store and well stocked.
The tavern next door was doing a roaring trade and one or two gents looked in Showroom Condition.
I bought some water and full cream milk. Luckily, I tasted it before filling my flasks. It had turned. I exchanged it for a fresh bottle from the back of the fridge, where it was coldest. I often have milk on my rides as apposed to energy drinks. It seems to work for me.
This is Skansdam and in the distance you can see The Witkop Blockhouse. A blockhouse is a small isolated fort used by the British occupying forces. This one you may have seem next to the Engen complex on the R59.
The service roads are poor in some places, but then a fair whack of it is like this, which is a pleasure and it goes on for kilometers.
Just outside Henley is this pub. I avoided it, but like the name.
For the second time that day the heavens opened up, but this time the lightning was getting a little too close for comfort. I took refuge on the platform under a train shelter with Thabane and his friend. They had just finished their Saturday shift at the factory and were on their way home to Meyerton.
The rain stopped as abruptly as it started and I raced off.
Six km's later, I got to Meyerton just as the train was pulling in. It just so happened that Thabane saw me. He came over to chat to me about "race" and I had to stop for a photo opportunity.
This was my first siting of the canals.
I stopped here to view the dramatic landscape and to have supper. Supper consisted of a flask of full cream milk, biltong, droe wors, Salticrax, tinned sardines and peanut brittle.
This was my attempt at a selfie. Clearly the kids of today are far more adept at using their cell phones.
It was dark and I had to turn my lights on to see where I was I going. In the distance, I could see the headlights of a vehicle traveling on a district road. It stopped. A little while later it got moving again, but it had now changed course and was heading for me. Turns out it was Rand Water Security personnel and they had seen my lights.
I was told that I was trespassing. The two gents were very friendly about it all and after chatting with them for a while I gathered that Rand Waters main issue is with people drowning in the canals. I could see that getting out of the canal would be a challenge, even with the banks of the canal sloped, as they were.
Fortunately, the rather large white dude, new the area reasonably well and he told me to follow the district road until it joined the Villiers tar road. From there I could head towards Deneysville.
Turns out that this was a God send.
On a previous trip I had to climb a few tall fences as I approached the dam wall. With the detour now forced upon me, I ended closer to where I needed to go and there would be no fence climbing necessary.
The only snag was that I would have to cover a fair distance on a busy tar road, at night.
It is hard to get into a good riding rhythm when you continually move off the road as a precaution. I have a red flashing light on my backpack, but I still felt uncomfortable every time I heard a vehicle approaching from behind. I was happy when I saw the sign to Aeolians yacht club. This was to be my stop for the night.
Abrahm gave me the keys to James Hemphill's unit and in the fridge I found 5 bitterly cold Castle Lites.
Man, they were good!
I knew that if I tried to give James money for the beers in JHB, he would have none of it, so I left 200.00 bucks near the bread bin, where he is sure to find it.
Aeolians Yacht Club consists of the club house with some ancillary outbuildings, an A-frame, Abrahms house and a few boat sheds that have been converted into sleeping quarters. The Deed of Gifts governing the property on which the club is founded, only allows for the building of boat sheds as top structures. So now members come out for the weekend and stay in a garage.
James' unit is particularly well appointed and very comfortable.
This is the view from the unit that I stayed in. Nice!
Aeolians has a very proud history and there was a time that you would only be invited to join if you were a Springbok sailor. Times have changed somewhat.
The club still hosts many regatta's and is actively involved in promoting sailing, especially amongst the junior ranks.
I was introduced to the yacht club as a student and this is where I learned to sail. WITS University Yacht Club has reciprocity at Aeolians and we had many a festive night holed up in this club house.
I made some of my very best friends through my involvement with sailing and because of their guidance and expertise, I managed to get WITS colours for sailing. So this club has an investment in my history.
I would have had the entire place to myself, were it not for Mike and the rest of the Brown family.
The 4 of them were staying in the bunkhouse for the weekend. They had just become members in December and were keen to make use of the perfect weather that was on offer this weekend.
For many of us, this place holds fond memories and is where we honed our drinking skills. Today I would be consuming coffee only. I had a few cups, supplied by the gracious new hosts.
The family Brown. Elektra, Georgia, Holly, Douglas and Mike.
They kindly offered me a lift back home, which I sadly had to refuse. It would have felt like I was cheating. We said our good bye's and I was off.
Luckily, I remembered a dirt road which a few of us did a year or so ago, when I last visited the club.
This cut out a lot of tar road and made the early part of the trip back, much more enjoyable.
I felt good on the ride back.
I found this little pub on the outskirts of Meyerton. A young lad was curious about my bike and the ride and it was not long before we had had a few beers and a couple of brandy and cokes.
Unfortunately, the pictures that his barlady girlfriend took were so out of focus that I cannot include them here. Sorry boet!
His mantra is: You don't stop partying because you get old, you get old because you stop partying.
Eileen called whilst I was there. That was my cue to get going.
Passed over the Klip River again and headed back toward the railway service line.
Until, that is, that I got to the Sundowner Sports Bar near Brackendowns. I spent the last bit of cash that I had, on a few beers and called Eileen to come and get me. I was not moving and inch further.
This was the view that greeted Eileen. We had 1 more beer and she took me home.
