Solo up Sani

Last week I travelled to KZN to pack my dream into a 3x3x3 container. As I entered the midlands and the textures of the familiar landscape started to unfold a deep sense of peace entered my heart. The reason why I return time and again.

Sunday morning and a welcoming sunrise. A beautiful sunny winter’s day. A day to ride! A now familiar feeling starts to creep up my legs up the back of my spine as I start the bike. I laugh at myself thinking that maybe I am different to other people in that my adrenal glands are located in my feet!

Sunrise on the farm : Nottinghamroad

Cows for company 

I find the back road around Loteni breathtakingly beautiful as usual but fortunately uneventful except for the road works. Note to myself:” Don’t ride close to heaps of stone, or any other strange low lying obstacle. Ever! Your foot pegs are not as high as you think!” Thank goodness for having the right gear as footballing a large rock at 80 km/h is pretty painful. No damage though.

Rocky Loteni 

Well, I didn’t know that I would thank my gear again later along the trip.

Adventure waiting....

I clock in at the border post and back at my bike I chit-chat to some wild dogs about bikes and the like, trying to hide my, by now growing at an alarming rate, nervousness about the unknown that lies ahead. What on earth was I doing, no back-up vehicle from the club (in truth I had back–up by cell phone, but that was somewhat remote), no Warren or Cloud or anyone else to sweep, no Natalie to break the ice with her antics, no Geoff to banter with, no Andy with emergency kit…..just me and the mountain…. SHIT!

I hear voice the voice of reason in my head.
'You can't go up alone, what if..... t h i n k   i t  t h r o u g h!"

But my sense of adventure overrides all logic....and besides, I've had Saturn on my case the last 2 & 1/2 years AND I am 2 & 1/2 years away from half a centuary! What the hell!

I try to calm myself by thinking about the Sani Pass history. Originally developed as a bridal path in 1913, the pass served as an important link between the Underberg district and the remote settlement of Mokhotlong, in north-eastern Lesotho. Hmpfh… someone must have been very desperate.

The start of things to come

It also was a difficult mule trail that enabled drovers to bring wool and mohair down to barter for supplies after which it was blasted wider to accommodate vehicles, with the first vehicle negotiating the path in 1948.

“Fat lot of good that info will do me now” And that is the last clear thought I remember.

Halfway up I pull off the road to rest and contemplate the situation. With trembling legs after a few km of gravel the size of golf balls and loose rocks varying in size from the palm of my hand to the size of a dinner plate, I begin to think that I must have rocks in my head to attempt this on my own. Turning back was not an option though!

Place of contemplation

And that was before I even got to the infamous switch backs of Sani Pass! Ignorance is bliss! Later I learn about the names given to some of the tight turns in the road - 'Suicide Bend', 'Ice Corner' (mine!) 'Big Wind Corner', Blind Man’s Corner, Grace Corner (for obvious reasons) and Aikona! , to name but a few. HAHAHAHA! Now you tell me!

 As I approach Ice Corner two vehicles are lined up behind a 2x4. Note to anyone that cares to listen. Don’t attempt Sani without a 4x4 no matter what anyone tells you. The 2x4 obscures my line into the corner and too late I notice the ice on the road, but I was committed and the choice between going over the edge or take my chances on the ice was easy. I catch the owner and his wife like a dear in headlights trying to cross the ice covered road. “Keep still” I shout, my words hardly cold as the front wheel touch the ice, and presto, halfway across…WIPEOUT!

Mine, ALL mine!

I want the corner plot with ice please! On the rocks, Yes, that’s right, the WHOLE corner, right round the bend! (although I have a sneaky suspicion I share the title deed with a large number of bikers)

Thank goodness for Jaco and his girlfriend (wife). Jaco, (and everyone else that helped), if you ever read this, you are an angel! For the rest, that stays between me and Sani. Eventually we man handle(or is it woman handle?) the bike around the bend up the corner to a relatively flattish area, where Jaco deflates the back tire to 1,4 barr. Another lesson! From there on the bike had more grip and negotiating the road became a lot easier. Yes, the last bit is very steep and the corners impossible but I think what most people forget to mention is the condition of the road surface. Hectic!. For all you bikers out there, have no fear, it will take truck loads of money and a long time for the road builders to conquer this mountain with its climate.   

These adventure bikes are pretty amazing, low gear, keep the rev's up, open up , look ahead and let the bike do the rest. That's the theory anyway!

Although the road to the top is only 8 km it feels like one of Geoff’s rides. Looonnnggggg but exhilarating!

Proof!

I get to the top altitude of 2874m drenched in perspiration. One cup of hot chocolate, a Kit-Kat and a rusk later, I feel better and decide to start the decent before my brain starts to rationalize what is waiting and the adrenaline stops pumping. Going down at the Lesotho border post the Basuto Official takes one look at me when I hand him my passport and with his face one big question mark he asks:

 “Are you alone?!”

 “Yes” I reply.

He looks at me with unbelieving eyes.

“On a motorbike?”

“Yes” I nod.

He grunts something in Sotho and pulls his beanie over his ears. If he utters another sound I am going to pull the beanie over his eyes... !

The King in all it's glory: a summer shot off the net.

By now the notion at the back of my head that I conveniently tried to ignore before when I saw the look on people’s faces as they pass me, becomes a reality. People think I am mad! Lost it completely!

Winter shot

I start the descend with Jaco’s words ringing in my ears.” Remember, the back break is your friend! Easy on the front when you go down".

You bet! My learning curve using the back break down a steep slope equals the gradient of Sani as I slide down the mountain, skid marks following me.

The Twelve Apostels

The words escape me... 

Halfway down

Along the way I stop for a few pictures, but it really was to catch my breath and gather courage to continue. Finally I find myself at the window of the SA border post. The same scenario replays itself like a scene from Ground Hog Day when I hand my passport to the border official.

 “Are you alone?!”

 “Yes” I reply.

He looks at me with unbelieving eyes and his jaw drops.

“On a motorbike?”

“Yes” I nod.

“You not afraid of the mountain” He scans my face as I try to keep it together.

‘Naahhww, I love this mountain” SANI QUEEN, yep, that‘s me!

Home Sweet Home!

He shakes his head and I leave to put back the mirrors I removed after purchasing the ice plot.

Looking back...

Later at home my remote back-up says:

“Ok, you’ve done Sani, another tick on the list”

A quiet sunset....

But actually it is more than that, it is the journey to the top, with all the sights and smells that creep into your helmet, the experience of the moment that you know is going to stay with you for ever that makes it worthwhile, the incredible feeling of being alive when you get to the top of such a mountain and stop to catch your breath and look down to where you came from. All of that makes it worth the effort.  

Was it stupid to go solo? Maybe...

Will I do it again? HELL YES, in a heartbeat!

My bogey in his stable, tired but safely home