From Sodom to Hell and back to Eden
When you toil in Gauteng, and you are a motorcycle enthusiast, your nearest scenic road is at least half a day away. Pick any direction and you have to travel at least two to three hundred kilometers to get clear of the smoke and the taxis. Not so when you ride around the Garden route. I can remember once, cresting the Outeniqua pass in a car, my friend asked me to open all the windows just so she could smell the fynbos. On a motorcycle, your senses are overloaded with sights and smells, and riding the Garden route is a very special experience for me. You can station yourself in George and pretty much pick any direction and you will experience Eden.
I have been along the Garden route several times on a motorcycle now, and every time I discovered a new route, especially with local knowledge to help me out. On one of my recent trips I teamed up with local resident and avid motorcyclist Johann van Tonder, to visit “Die Hel”. Being an off-road enthusiast, I knew the route we were going to take would not be boring.
From George we headed up Montagu pass. Johann played tour guide and told tales about each place we stopped. First stop was a fork in the road where the erstwhile townspeople of George had once commandeered the famous roadbuilder Thomas Bain to build a better and wider road leading to George, rather than Blanco. Blanco had been the main trading post at the time, but nobody even knows about it now. Moertjiesklip had another tale to it and when we stopped at Amanda’s grave, the view into the valley was what my soul needed. The fact that Johann was now a mere 9km from his home is what makes this area so special. You don’t have to go look for beauty. It can be found wherever you are.
We headed further up, and soon reached the main road. A short tar section and we were on the Paardepoort road, heading North and kicking up plumes of dust. I was home. It felt good. We headed to Dysselsdorp where we stopped briefly to have a look at their church on top of the little koppie. From there we rode the Ou Muragie road to Wilgewandel for a well-deserved lunch and a few cold ones. For the first time in my life I headed up the Swartberg pass, and again it delivered scenic vistas. At the top we were close to the entrance of Die Hel and when we got to the inconspicuous turnoff, the sign said: “Dangerous road”. This sounded ominous, and we proceeded with caution.
Nothing could prepare me for the last part of this road. The final plunge into the valley had some breathtaking views and gravity-defying switchbacks. You can read all you want, see all the photos you want, but until you have seen the valley with your own eyes, you are the poorer for it. We spent the night under the stars, sharing stories next to a crackling fire. I wanted to stay longer. I wanted to experience more of it, but I had places to be and people to meet. The next morning we retraced our route back, and just riding at a different time of day, the valley felt completely different.
There is just something different about riding a motorcycle here in complete isolation. Your oneness with the road and the elements. In a car you are cocooned in luxury and air conditioning, but on a bike, you notice things. The wind, the noise, the bumps in the road. But more than anything, the smells.
As Johann and I parted ways I headed further up the Swartberg Pass toward Prins Albert. The second part was even more beautiful than the first. In Prins Albert, after a brief lunch, I longed for the ocean. I headed back through Oudtshoorn over two more twisty passes to Hartenbos. Here I was, alone on the beach, with just my thoughts, and my motorcycle patiently waiting to hear where we are going tomorrow. Yesterday the mountains, today the sea. My time in the Garden route was coming to an end, but I had one more sight to see: “Kom-se-pad”.
This road started just past Simola and immediately dished up fern-lined roads deep in the heart of the Knysna forest. Progress was slow, not because of the roads, but because of the sheer tranquility of the place. I stopped in De Vlugt at Annelize’s farmstall. She poured me a coffee and served a melktert of note. As we sat in the shade of a tree we talked about their uncomplicated life. I asked for a second helping as I was in no hurry, and I wanted to know more about this remarkable human. I did not want to leave. I could sit there all day.
This area of South Africa has so much to explore. So much to see. So many people to meet and talk too. Take the time to sit and listen to their story. This is what I imagine Eden looks like, and I will return, and it will be on a bike.
Article and Photos: Brian Cheyne
