This is the story of the day that the word ‘cold’ found a new meaning.
By Stefan vd Riet
Pics: Black Rock Studio
It was early on a chilly Sunday… scratch that, a freezing Sunday morning. A group of around 15 eager motorcycle enthusiasts, all of questionable sanity, gathered at BMW Motorrad East Rand from around 5 am for some coffee and muffins in the +8 degree cold. But that’s not all they were planning. At 5:30, I really started to question the sanity of my fellow motorcyclists when we all put our kickstands up and headed off towards Clarens. Yes, Clarens, one of the colder parts of the country, right next to the Lesotho mountains, which currently had snow on them. Why might you ask, would anyone do such a thing, in the middle of winter? Well, because they can! And so they shall.
From our cosy +8 degrees, we rode off into plummeting temperatures. The convoy, led by Rodney Serfontein from BMW Motorrad East Rand, with his lovely (and obviously bribed) wife on the back, made its way to the N12/R24, where we aimed for Gilloolys, then followed the N3 to the N12 Kimberely, and onto the R59, passing through Alberton in the fog and heading towards Vereeniging. All while still riding in the dark of night. Somewhere around the Vaal Park, we hooked a left Sasol 1 and set course for our first fuel stop in Heilbron. As we remained headstrong through the cold, blue hour was upon us, and slowly the light began to creep out, revealing the white, frost-covered landscape. At this point, it was cold. Luckily for me, BMW East Rand had been kind enough to lend me a 1250 GS Rallye for the ride, probably because they knew I would never show up if I didn’t at least have heated grips. The warm grips were a lifesaver, as the GS showed the ambient temperature dipping down to -4 degrees more often than not, which, coupled with the wind chill from travelling at around 140kph nonstop, resulted in the word “cold” being redefined.
Approaching Heilbron, we were met with a long stretch of road works, asking us to veer off the main road that is to be covered in fresh tar, and wander along the side of the road on frozen gravel roads. Yes, frozen, to the point that the bikes hardly kicked up any dust. The road works led us to a ‘stop n’ go’ section, only 2km from our first fuel stop, where we were stopped just in time to watch the sunrise over the frost. While we waited, everyone hopped off and looked for the warmest part on their motorcycles to grip firmly in order to heat up their nearly frostbitten fingers before we had to face the wind chill again. Among the riders, who were mostly saddled on GS adventure bikes was one chap on a beautiful orange cafe racer R Nine T, and dressed to match. Skinny jeans, riding takkies, a slim motorcycle jacket and a retro helmet with vents that couldn’t close. I looked into his bloodshot eyes and asked him whether being stylish was worth the pain. “No!”, he said as he grasped the cylinder head of his motorcycle. You had to wear every single piece of winter clothing and heated gear you own to survive this ride. It was a test of mental endurance.
When we reached Heilbron, it was a quick refuel, then back on the road to the next fuel stop in Bethlehem, around an hour and a bit’s ride in the cold morning sun. If, like me, you thought that the rising sun would bring rising temperatures, you…. like me, would have been sorely mistaken. 2 hours after the sun had officially risen, we were still facing temperatures as low as -2 to -3 degrees. But as we pushed ahead, all swearing at ourselves for thinking this would be a fun ride, the mountains started popping up from the horizon, and slowly we began to remember why we all got up so early on this particular morning. Out of the Bethlehem fuel stop, we went straight into the mountains for the last 50km to our much-anticipated breakfast run venue. As we hooked a right on the road leading into Clarens through the mountain pass, off in the distance, the snow-capped mountains of Lesotho could be seen. A beautiful sight that I am very glad I was not closer to.
On the R712, which passes Clarens towards the Golden Gate Highlands National Park, lies an abandoned bus covered in graffiti, with a nice little restaurant next to it: The Mountain Monkey. We had arrived, after 3 and a half gruelling hours of riding in conditions that mere mortals were not meant to ride in, we finally made it to a warm cup of hot chocolate and a meal to fuel us for the ride home. With a beautiful landscape in the backyard of the rustic restaurant, we sat in the sun trying to thaw out our digits, looking over the little pond that was still frozen on top. If you are ever travelling through Clarens, pop into the Mountain Monkey for a bite; the Maluti Drizzle open sandwich was absolutely spectacular, and the people are as friendly as can be. After some nice chats with our newfound equally crazy friends, we set off to our first fuel stop on the way back. Leaving The Mountain Monkey, we rode straight into the Golden Gate Highlands National Park, with roads and views so spectacular that it would make any trip worth the experience. We live in a truly beautiful world, and so much of that beauty is right here in our very own South Africa, where you can travel just 3-4 hours from Joburg and be somewhere completely breathtaking. Now I do have to say, the Golden Gate Park is also very nice and green in the summertime, which will be my preferred time to tour on a motorcycle. But nonetheless, we all had an amazing ride through some of the best mountain roads to ride that our country has to offer, in a place where you could spend days exploring. From there it was on through Phutadijhaba and into Harrismith for a refuel at the Bergview 1 Stop on the N3.
The Bergview 1 Stop in Harrismith is a must-visit destination if you are travelling on the N3 through the area. The biggest fuel stop with any type food you could imagine, gift stores and even accommodation. I nearly booked a room just to use the heater, but home awaits! After fueling up for the long road ahead, we set off on the N3, through the 30kmh crosswind straight back to Jozi. And so the adventure came closer to its end, the convoy slowly began separating as we were all excited to get home and warm up while reminiscing on the morning’s happenings. A ride of close to 700km from the East Rand to The Big Frost and back, without any issues aside for 1 small drop and 1 lost rider, but everyone made it home safe. If I have learned one thing during this excursion, it’s that the Bavarians really know how to make a motorcycle. Rodney’s bike battery aside, the GSs all did fantastically on the cold wide wide-open country roads. No bike rides quite like the GS 1250, all the power at your fingertips from a comfortable and very capable package. With the worst of the cold gone, at a max of 14 degrees for the day, it felt like a lovely Sunday afternoon ride, with heated grips for comfort and a generous wind screen, a fantastic tool for the job.
Now the word cold appears a lot in this story, because the scars are very fresh in my mind. But in 5, 10, or 20 years when someone asks: “Did you do The Frostbite Ride? How was it?” I’ll reply: “it was a little cold, but we had loads of fun” A once-in-a-lifetime experience, because I will not be in a hurry to be that cold again…. or willI?.
Thank You to Rodney and the Team for a well organised and executed event – despite my whining about the cold, it really was a lot of fun and a great experience. They do all sorts of great events like them. To keep up to date and join them, follow their Facebook page by clicking here.
