It is not often, that men bare their hearts, and beliefs. But, this being Sunday, and, with the respect, of non judge-mental friendship. It seemed neither, out of place, nor confrontational, to be discussing our convictions and beliefs, so openly. Still dressed in our jammies. Interestingly, I discovered, that each one has is own “bucket of beliefs”. Yet, there seems to be a common thread, stated differently, but centered around – “respect for our creator and love for your neighbor!”.
Each sums it up in his own way;
Rassie’s – rule nr one, “don’t be a doos!”.
Gerhard’s “go forth and multiply, and subdue the earth.”
Other suggestions; “fear God and keep his commandments.”
“Let the peace of Christ – lead you into all understanding.”
Clearly, neither Diverse beliefs, nor our verbalisation thereof, are reason for discord or arguments. But when we use those beliefs to justify our intolerances and fuel our judgements, then all manner of strife and injustices are unleashed. I suspect, that what we refer to as “judgement day”, will be God “saving the best for last.”
For a moment, I contemplate how different we all are, and how each one, lives life in his own way. We can observe the same picture, and yet if asked to describe it, no 2 people on earth will have the same description. We see differently, process and experience differently, explain differently. Why then do we insist on singleminded, unquestioned, conformity??
No 2 people if given a plate of food will tackle it the same way. My sister whenever we went out to eat, would only ever, order a “monkeygland steak”. Other people love variety and different taste, even though they may be disappointed some of the time, more often than not, they are pleasantly surprised. My wife, goes for the good stuff first, and leaves the rest. I on the other hand always “leave the best to last”. I swear, it was not, so planned, but, this trip also turned out that way, “We saved the best for last”.
We started the trip with 11 riders, of varying experience and skills. a reality which can be, both frustrating for the skilled riders, and rather intimidating for the not so skilled. However, it is not always possible to get enough riders of the same caliber, together on one trip. Even if one was to do pre-trip questionnaire, it’s highly unlikely that you will get a accurate estimation of abilities, or even, the “group average”. Interestingly a survey done by an insurance company, showed that 89% of all drivers believed that they were above average drivers. Apparently this figure hardly changed, even when the survey was done at an ER Hospital (among Drivers who had just caused accidents). Yet despite the diversity, the unifying power of “common Goal” (so prevalent among Adventure riders). Soon established a loose camaraderie, among us all. But, as circumstance dictated, we all ate our plate in different ways, and at different times. Lexy and Erik had pre-decided not to have “seconds”, so they left early On Saturday. Derek was all to eager to stay for “desert”, but, as we left for the ride Saturday Morning, he discovered – the console mounting on his bike had broken (same as JP’s on our last trip), so he decided to leave a day early. JP and Robbie, not wanting to appear greedy, opted to leave with him. So by the time we were scheduled to leave (Sunday morning), we were down to 6 Riders. Gerhard and Donovan (wanting to get home – to wash the dishes) decided to opt for the shortest Tarest route. Secure in the illusion, that you can enjoy Adventure riding, on a well manicured field, and at a gallop. I must concede, though, they both ride GS’s, undeniable the “weapon of choice” for such a decision. The rest of us set of at a leisurely pace to Dullstroom. Our planned route over Makubulaan was barred by the most intimidating of gates. Which on our last trip was damaged and left open. Whilst, I had planned properly, and acquired permission to enter Makubulaan, I’d underestimated Neil’s fixation with the upkeep and maintenance of this beautiful piece of property. So, Rassie finally got, the opportunity, to show us his road past Ernie Els’s golf estate, to Dullstroom, instead. There we decided to up the pace. Ryan opting for a burger at Highside tavern, and his customary amble home!
Rassie (wanting “deboned fish”) requested that we don’t do the rocky road through the Selonsrivier pass. So I opted for a road, I’d first discovered on my Bicycle, but was too tired to explore back then. It looked really promising in the beginning, but as
we crossed the first cattle grid, a glimmer of self doubt crossed my forehead. By the time we closed the 5 gate behind us, we all knew we were lost, and deep into private property. I have in the past found it difficult to read Rassie’s emotions, from his facial expressions alone. But today there way no mistaking the frustration and unease he was experiencing. especially when he wanted confirmation (which I could not give him) that I had indeed been done this road before. Which of course I hadn’t! In truth, I was somewhat relieved, that Derek had left early. I know how he “hates dirt and adventure” 😂😂. And to have to hear him gloat? “Sean, failing to plan, is planning to fail.” Was not the encouragement I needed, right now.
When Nico declared that his blood sugar had fallen dangerously low, I too felt a pang of concern.
In times such as these, you will often hear, Both sanity and expediency suggesting that, “if you are on the wrong road, the sooner you turn around, the sooner you can get back on track”. But to me, the torment, is not knowing where the road will lead. Lets face it, if you don’t know where the road is taking you, then how do you know, it is indeed the wrong road??
My rule of thumb, in life and in such instances, is, “as long as, there is no insurmountable obstacle, you generally speaking, still on the right track.” besides, I was farely certain the valley we were in, could only possibly take us to one of 2 roads. Both of which would deliver us safely to the Bospot at Loskop. Where we were to lunch. Provided of course, that there were no locked gates, or insurmountable obstacles. Nico, now all sugared up, after his emergency red bull, felt compelled to remind me of this possibility, every time we stopped. Whilst their 690’s were well suited to this terrain, my GS was, following its own mind, down this mountain goat track. A couple of Kudu and some Impala looked on with mild concern, as we bounced past. The thought of me, having to take my GS, back up the mountain, was the final motivation I required to push on. I resolved we would either dig our way out or arrange for an air lift. I felt reasonable sure, the latter was an option, knowing full well that Rassi’s Dad is a retired Fighter Pilot.
And how fortuitous it all turned out? It was indeed the best ride of the weekend. We spilled out into the Klipspruit river kloof. To Add to Rassie’s frustration, Nico and I couldn’t resist taking the odd photo, in this veritable paradise. I stopped at a farm house, to enquire the owner’s name and Number. Ron Cowley I was told, but no number. I will have to go explore again, if I’m to include this route, in our next trip. as predicted we ended up on the Salonsriver road. Which clearly had been graded recently. The relief of joy unleashed, was animated by Rassie’s flowing, sliding, spinning tracks. Even the dust cloud, seemed to have fun, defying, the restrictive laws of gravity, caution and logic. Nico’s reproof of him, at our next stop, “jy druk hom bietjie ver, is dit nodig om die hele pad so te spin?”. Helped very little indeed. Soon, we too were left no option, but to try keep up! The scripture, teaches, “he that is first, will be last; and he that is last, will be first!” So Nico and I, stayed back, thinking – “it’s best to be last!”
