In July of 2020, when the Bronco Iron Company was only an idea, four young bums desperate for adventure after months of government imposed lockdown came up with an idea, a cross country motorcycle trip, the likes of which none of us had ever attempted. Ideas were floated left and right. At one stage Namibia even threw its hat into the ring, but it was decided we’d save the desert for another time. We had the unique problem of being split fifty fifty. Two of us are based in Cape Town, and the other two in Secunda, Mpumalanga. Somehow, amidst all the bickering and putting down of each others motorcycles, we realized our problem was not actually a problem at all, but an advantage.
The journey towards a goal is the best part. That’s why when doing a moto road trip, you tend to try do a loop. No one likes doing the return leg. It’s rushed, it’s always hot for some reason, and you’ve seen it all already. So it came to be decided that the Secunda boys would put their mid-life crisis bikes on a trailer headed for Cape Town. They would then fly down and we would start the trip from my home base. The end point would be Secunda, some 1600km away in a straight line. Dom and I would then put our Sportsters on a trailer coming down to Cape Town, take a quick flight home and bob’s your uncle.
Now that we had a solid plan, the real bickering could commence. Introducing Boss Gareth, an old school friend and SA air forced trained aircraft mechanic. The Boss is the guy you absolutely must have on any road trip. He is practical, put together and if something goes wrong, there’s a good chance he can fix or patch it. The Boss is also strongly opinionated, loves Black Label beer and Klipdrift brandy more than his own mother and worst of all, he rides a Yamaha Super Canary (yes, I know that’s not what it’s called, but it pisses him off). I will be the first to admit I like to have control of a situation, and so there was a decent amount of back and forth when we were planning our route out, but eventually, we settled.
The other Secunda boy is Ash, our resident pickle expert. Ash is happy to go with the flow, as long as he can stop for a fresh jar of dills and to “suck back a few beers” as he so eloquently puts it every day of the journey. Ash rides a KTM 1190, but he doesn’t have panniers and is secretly keen on a Harley Davidson (a fact he will never admit to in front of the Boss), so he has a pass.
On a sunny afternoon on the 23rd of September 2020, I found the Boss and Ash wondering around parkade 2 of Cape Town international airport. I telephoned Dom and let him know the boys were in town. We met up at Jerry’s that evening for a burger, a beer and some more back and forth about the logistics. The biggest issue of which was that the Secunda boys bikes hadn’t arrived in Cape Town yet, even though they had been due days before. Ash spent most of that night checking in with the delivery driver and by 8am the following morning, we were unloading those insurance salesmen weekend joy ride motorcycles off the back of a trailer. By 8:30am we were packed and rearing to go. Only one issue, no one could get hold of Dom. We hit the road anyway.
He caught up with us at Deus homestead in Hout Bay as we were finishing up a great breakfast of coffee and pastries. As it turns out, he felt a quick session at CrossFit was important on the day you start an eight day, three thousand kilometer journey. We all have our issues I suppose.
We continued south down the peninsula to the small town of Kommetjie, where Sean, who didn’t have his green Pig just yet, runs a practice with his wife, Doctor Shani (for the record she is a real, fully qualified, very good GP). After a quick little reunion we left old Seanus behind with a tear running down his cheek. I’d like to think this is the day he could take it no longer and began his search for a motorcycle, culminating in his purchase of said Pig. We continued south through Scarborough, past the Cape Point Nature Reserve, easing around the point and without paying it the mind it deserved, began the long trek up South Africa’s east coast.
By lunchtime we stopped at the Thirsty Oyster in Gordon’s Bay, one of the Boss’s old watering holes from his gallivanting days as an appie stationed in Langebaan. We enjoyed a fish, a chip and Ash sucked down his first couple beers of the day. What came next took all of us a little by surprise, the R44 between Gordon’s Bay and Kleinmond is an absolute treasure. I’d go so far as the claim it as the best stretch of road in the Western Cape. With unbeatable scenery, immaculate road surfaces, tight corners and perfect gradients. The only issue is having to stop every few kilometers to take a photo that you’re sure will beat your last one, and you’d be right.
As we pushed on toward our destination for the day, Cape Agulhas, the southern most point in Africa, the road unfortunately cut inland away from the incredible coastline. It was here, as the roads opened up and we increased our average riding speed that I came to realize sunglasses instead of a visor was a poor choice. I thought I would have an opportunity to retrieve my visor from Ash’s medicine box when I stopped to help Dom remove a bee sting from his neck, but the Secunda boys were setting the example for the rest of the trip by flying off ahead. By the time we stopped in Napier so Ash, and the rest of us, could suck back a beer, my eyes felt like someone had thrown a handful of sand into them.
The day was rapidly drawing to a close, but just as the sun was falling below the horizon, we rode through Struisbaai and into Agulhas. I had planned for us to set up for the night in the Agulhas campsite, which we found on arrival to be quite underwhelming. It was essentially a half a rugby field boxed in between holiday houses with established clans giving us the evil eye as we rolled in noisily. The Boss was having none of it, fortunately Ash had spotted a much larger and more open campsite when we rode into Struisbaai, so we backtracked to check it out, and found it much more preferable. There was barely anyone there, the reception had already closed for the night which was in our favor as we skirted past the booms -free of charge- on our bikes and unlike the Agulhas campsite, it was right on the beach.
We shot back into town to buy some beer and chops, and found ourselves through no fault of our own accidentally sucking back a few more beers at the local pub. An hour or two later we puttered back to the campsite, made a fire and enjoyed a good dinner and a solid nights rest after an incredible first day on the road. Stay tuned for part 2!
Sissy bar overkill packed The Super Canary the 1190 Backstreet Reunion A bee sting removal Ash Beer break The Boss Gareth And we’re off
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