The big push to Gansbaai began with an epic ride round Clarence Drive by Suzann. She literally cycled for her life. Even though it was not yet eight in the morning, it seemed as though everyone was out on the scenic route but not at a scenic speed. At least the motorcyclists were nice. One even rode next to her for a bit and tried to chat but the whipping wind was too loud for her to hear anything other than, ‘enjoy’ as he drove off.
Many other cyclists were also out but it was again the vehicle that was creating most of the problems. There was no yellow line and no way to pull off to let folks pass. That’s why Suzann felt such pressure to pump the pedals at an average speed of 40km/h so no-one was held up too badly. Some places she was whizzing along at 60km/h. It was no wonder that when we finally hit the yellow line and could ride on the shoulder from Rooi Els, she was finished. But then, her turn was also finished and Lynsey could take up the bike for the trip through the fynbos and coastal plains passed Betty’s Bay.
By the time we reached Kleinmond Suzann had recovered enough to head out front again and gun it through the little ‘dorpie’. There we could still ‘gun’ but not through the odd detours (due to roadworks) in Hermanus. Anyway, we’d been informed that there was roadworks all the way from Hermanus to Stanford. Consequently, we could not cycle through that bit. This however, made our day even shorter and by the time we got back on the bikes after a quick lunch on the side of the road just outside Stanford, much traffic had disappeared and we had a great ride into Gansbaai.
Strandskloof Park was just a couple of kilometres outside of town on the Elim road and we cycled up to the gate about three hours earlier than we’d projected. This gave us plenty of time to set up camp, get ourselves clean in their immaculate ablutions (I mean really … wow) and still head back into town to find some wood for the night’s braai.
Unfortunately it was Sunday and in small town like Gansbaai they roll up the tar road on a Sunday afternoon. Finally we ran a little Pakistani corner shop to earth where we purchased a bag of wood that turned out to be so mouldy, the white hairs on the wood rivalled those of your average Maltese poodle! But we sifted through the lot and used the best … just enough to cook our chops. We figured, everything burns anyway … and we didn’t wake up dead the next morning!