Page 15
South Africa 
Swaziland 
DAY 52
Feb. 21, 2000
Hazyview
to Barberton
Hello!
I think I may have said that I felt Hazyview to be a rather unsavory place, I
felt uneasy there when I went alone to the post office, the ATM machine and the
supermarket. That plus all the advice we were given not to ride alone prompted
me to find someone to ride to Barberton with when we left Hazyview Monday. She
was Jane, a lovely young woman who is a first grade teacher in real life. We
agreed to meet in the morning after breakfast. When we set out she went first
because of the two of us she is even slower. There’s not many who can claim
that! She had a beautiful bouquet of cut flowers attached to her rear rack which
I enjoyed all day. They were sent to her by her sweetheart for Valentines Day,
she received them in Johannesburg on the 15th, this was the 21st and they were
still pretty. It isn’t often you will find someone camping and riding a bike
for a week toting a bouquet. Everyone who passed us remarked to her about the
flowers. She reminded me about a children’s book. A Mrs. Mc Gillvary or some
such rode a bike too and kept adding things to it to make it more comfortable.
Jane
likes to be comfortable so we stopped frequently and she reminded me that day
about the importance of stretching. Now I’m trying to remember to do a little
each day. Some folks have a regular routine they go through every day and I say
good for them, I wish I could too, and I know I should, but so far at least
don’t have the time and energy.
It
was a beautiful morning for a ride, not even raining if I remember correctly.
Jane saw a monkey sitting by road which surprised me. The area we were in
wasn’t populated but it was cultivated. There were thousands of acres of tree
farms. The trees have been planted neatly in rows, the branches trimmed to a
standard height, the underbrush kept cleared. I didn’t expect to see wild
animals there.
At
29 km. we stopped at the Braai Shack Store and had a snack. Other Odyssey riders
were there because this place was mentioned on the DRG but it wasn’t open,
disappointing those who wanted a cold drink. But we made do with the food we
carried on our bikes. We used the store’s outdoor eating area and noticed the
unusual ground covering, macadamia nut shells! Macadamia nuts are grown here and
sold at roadside stands, street corners, and wherever people gather or are
detained.
We
had ridden less than 20 km. more when we came upon several Odyssey bikes parked
at a tea house. It looked like a charming place so we decided to stop for lunch.
Service was very slow, partly because it is South Africa and the folks here tend
to move at a more relaxed pace, and partly because they were overwhelmed by
having so many customers in one morning. Eventually though our food arrived and
in the meantime we had enjoyed chatting with other riders. Someone had bought
and was sharing a chocolate cake so we each ate a slice of that while we waited
for our lunches. I had chicken salad, a scone with whipped cream and jam, and a
cup of real coffee made in a French press.
It
must have been well into the afternoon when we finally arrived at the checkpoint
in Nelspruit, a prosperous looking city. There was a SPAR store close by so I
hurried over there to buy an adaptor while Jane tried unsuccessfully to send
pocketmail.
We
still had 50 km to go and it was uphill in a headwind. I suggested that I go
first or ‘pull’ to break the wind which would make it easier for Jane. We
went a litlle faster then but I had to
look back at Jane in my helmet mirror often to make sure my pace was okay
and adjust it if necessary.
It
was 6:30 when we finally rode into the Barberton Karavaan Park. Dinner would
close in 30 minutes but it was growing dark and threatening to rain so we
decided to be prudent and put up our tents before giving into our appetites.
When
the tents were up we rode our bikes uphill 1.2 km. to the Phoenix Hotel for
dinner. We joined the line of people waiting for food and soon realized it
wasn’t moving. We waited an hour because all the food was gone and more had to
be prepared. What a long wait! At times like that I really wish I had my
Pocketmail device with me so that I can work at these reports, but I seldom
remember to take it. Sometimes I couldn’t use it anyway while waiting because
it is raining but this time we were indoors. Finally the food was ready and was
it good! We had pasta with 3 sauces and tossed salad. The mayor of Barberton
gave a speech welcoming us and his assistant told of the gold mining history of
Barberton. Both were interesting speakers and raised our interest in seeing
Barberton but we wouldn’t get that opportunity on this trip. We would have to
be up early and on our way to Swaziland in the morning.
Good
Bye, Alice
DAY 53
Feb. 22, 2000
Barberton
to Ezulweni, Mbabane, Swaziland
Of
course it did rain and we had to pack our tents away sopping wet. We rode our
bikes to the Phoenix Hotel for breakfast and again stood in line
while we waited for more food to be cooked. I guess those folks must have
been surprised and probably dismayed at how much we ate. While there we learned
that one rider’s bicycle had been stolen from the Hotel’s courtyard the
night before while he was inside having dinner. He had been directed to park it
in the courtyard and apparently felt that to be a safe location so didn’t lock
it. Locking our bikes is just one of those things that has to be endured. It is
time consuming and a nuisance but it has to be done unless you take turns
staying with the bikes with other riders. Jane and I had locked our bikes to the
fence before both dinner and breakfast. I thought it ironic that while we were
inside listening to the mayor tell about his fine city, one of its citizens was
outside stealing one of our bikes.
The
expected result of having a bike stolen is that the poor hapless owner has to
buy a new bike from TK&A. But Ken didn’t like his Odyssey bike from the
beginning so he found an innovative solution. He is going to ‘sit’ the bikes
of people going off route which will benefit both parties. It means that Ken
will have a bike to ride and the one who is leaving will not be encumbered by
his bicycle during his travels. Last I knew he had appointments through April.
After
breakfast Jane and I set out intending to ride together but it was an uphill day
and after 20 km or so Jane said she wasn’t having fun anymore so we flagged
down a sag wagon. The rule is that you should be sick or injured to get sagged
but they took her and her bike anyway. I think she didn’t ride for the next 3
days. When I asked her why one evening she said she just didn’t feel like
riding a bike. From the looks of things there are a number of others who feel
the same way. For me riding in the sag wagon is so utterly boring that I would
never choose it over riding.
I
rode alone most of that morning but kept the rider in front of me in sight. I
tried to catch him but couldn’t make up the distance. I prefer to be alone
anyway and this time it was I who saw the monkeys, four of them! They are grey
with black faces and cute of course. Three ran across the road while the fourth
one waited and watched because I was too close by then. Seeing the monkeys made
my day!
The
first summit that day had an elevation of 4910 feet and the second of 5098 feet.
Some people have a device on their bikes that measures elevation gain, we ride
more miles up than the elevation is because the roads are usually graded so that
hills are climbed gradually,
not as the crow flies. [With the exception of some roads in Costa Rica that went
straight up, too steep for most of us to ride.]
One
of the passes was called Badplass, the other Nelshoogte Pass. I think it was the
second pass that was bad for us that day however. It was raining, there was
major road construction with huge heavy duty equipment and trucks, the traffic
was heavy and fast, the edge of the paved road was jagged and broken and there
was no shoulder. All in all, a cyclist’s worst nightmare. To get through this
kind of situation I try to focus on what I am doing, trying not to weave but to
hold a steady line, trying not to fall off the edge accidentally which might
result in a fall yet assessing the edge to see whether there is anywhere to go
if I need to, and all the while keeping an eye on the traffic behind me when I
can by glancing in my helmet mirror. I tell myself that the vehicles overtaking
me don’t really want to run me off the road or run over me. I don’t take a
dive for the ditch unless
it is the only alternative. But that day Steve, the cyclist I was riding with,
and I were forced off the road by trucks twice.
By
that time Steve had had it and said he was going to hitch a ride and was I with
him. I always hate to give up but as I said before I think when one commits to
riding with someone one should stick to it. It was very unpleasant and dangerous
riding through that construction anyway so hitching did look rather attractive
and I agreed to do it. We tried several times before anyone stopped but finally
a small pick-up truck with two black men inside stopped for us. One met us and
asked where we wanted to go. He then conferred with the driver and reported back
that they could take us part way to our final destination. That was fine with us
because we just wanted to get through the construction area. The three of us
struggled to get the bikes in because they are heavy and awkward things and
because the canopy was low. Then Steve and I climbed in with the bikes and off
we went. We were to be grateful for that canopy because it had been raining on
and off all day and before long there was yet another deluge. Every time the
truck slowed or stopped Steve would say, “Oh no! Do you think they are going
to put us out here?” Steve was also worried whether we were heading in the
right direction so I got the DRG off my bike and could see from reading it that
we were. The truck stopped beside the road once and we feared we would be put
out there in the downpour, but that stop was for the passenger up front. We
continued again and finally when we did get out the rain had stopped at least
for the moment. The driver would not take the money we offered. He told us that
he is from Kenya, in this country working as an engineer. We pedaled off, the
driver having kindly deposited us at a place where we could easily find our way.
Later
we learned that two riders took falls on the downside of that construction area.
Margherita was ahead and when she fell the rider behind her was too close to
avoid her and he fell as well. She fell on her face losing a lot of skin and
blackening an eye. He fell on his knees skinning and bruising both. But after a
couple of recovery days in the sag wagon they are back on their bikes.
This
was the day we crossed the border out of South Africa and into Swaziland.
As
soon as we rode into Swaziland we were approached by women selling roasted ears
of corn. Both of us were hungry so we bought the corn. (South African money can
be used interchangeably with Swaziland money.) We found it delicious and happily
munched away, eventually eating it all. It was somewhat dry and chewy, requiring
lots of chewing and making us wish we had something to drink to wash it down. We
are almost always thirsty anyway. As Steve and I stood there enjoying our corn
we talked several other riders into buying an ear but in the end we were the
only ones who liked it. I took several photos there of the ladies roasting the
corn before an open fire and selling the corn. Because the camera is digital and
has a display feature I showed them the pictures and they were delighted.
Everyone gathered round for a turn to see. I am afraid I may lose my camera some
day because that is a perfect opportunity for a thief to snatch it and run.
The
rest of the ride was unremarkable except for an awesome descent. It was a great
road in good condition with wide shoulders and it just went down and down and
down. I did some braking but tried not to be too much of a wimp. When I read my
Cateye computer that evening I saw that my maximum speed had been 65 kph. Later
when we had a chance to ask Trueheart what his maximum speed was on that hill,
he replied 94 kph!
This
was a very long, 169 km., tough day with major climbing and pouring rain. I
wouldn’t have finished if the man from Kenya hadn’t given us a lift through
the construction area.
Once
at camp I hurried to put up my tent between downpours, waited in line forever
for a shower, waited in line again even longer for dinner and finally having got
it, stood to it eat, all of this in the rain, serious rain.
Everything
is soggy. Water was standing on the ground, the earth no longer able to absorb
it. I was grateful to be able to crawl into my cozy and dry tent.
Goodbye!
Goodbye! Alice
Today's Music
??
South Africa
Odyssey Riders and Staff
