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maneuverability .
Our rain suits had to come out the bags as the drizzle kept escalating . With each passing squall , we got wetter and colder . The bike just got muddier .
By the time we reached the asphalt , the rain was belting down , and the wind had picked up to a gale . Protected by the screen Mike peered on . I say , protected by the screen , well , Mike was but I had the advantage of hiding behind the big man and staying dry , other than my pant legs . When we stopped in the village of Riviersonderend [ River with no end ] big Mike was surprisingly dry and raved on about the shape and design of the standard screen on the bike working perfectly for someone of his size .
We topped the fuel and grabbed a six pack for later , then pulled into an eatery for a light lunch . The place was sign boarded Butcher , Baker , Restaurant . When I asked the guy at the door where the candlestick maker was , it went right over his head .
Our light lunch ended up being two massive homemade hamburgers that left us again feeling overfed . We sat on the covered deck while the worst of the storms passed by . All around the bike , the puddle formed showed a brown stain from all the mud washing away .
The short spin from the village to our farm cottage accommodation for the night was fun , with more puddle hopping and more coats of mud applied to the bike , our gear and ourselves , right where the previous shower had washed clean . We just kept moving without the bike skipping a beat .
Mountains rose in front of us as we pulled in to Bokrivier farm , our overnight stay . As we pulled up outside our cottage called Choctaw , we noticed , very gratefully , that the wood fired hot tub had already been lit .
Bokrivier is a 1523 hectare working farm that grows six different varieties of pecan nuts and runs a free-range beef herd of robust Sussex cattle . It is bound on the south by the Riviersonderend River and climbs , at first gently , through three hundred hectares of virgin Renosterveld , and then steeply , to lofty mountainfynbos covered peaks .
The rest of the day we spent sipping cold beers while boiling our tired bodies in the tub , all the time being serenaded by a large herd of cattle in the field to our side . My mate , there with me a cold beer in hand , the rain falling from above and the Husqvarna standing proudly right at our side . It was almost perfect . If only I could have swopped out Mike for my much more attractive wife . The moment was very … BROmantic . Bikes beers , mud , mountains , full stomachs , and tired eyes . We chatted about life , expeditions , dreams , and goals . Our future plans were similar and included long rides on motorcycles , expeditions to offbeat places just to get lost and dirty , a restoration project or two , a big workshop and more travel .
The beers flowed and by the time there were none left , we were both happy to head indoors and fall over on our beds . Both of us knowing well that despite the days ride being a shorter one , the next day we would need to peel off a lot more kilometres and with many planned stops , it was going to be a long ride .
Waking up in the early hours of the morning my first move was to head outside , where it was cold . Shaking my head as to why we had chosen to go ride like this in the middle of winter , I moved cautiously around the patio furniture to not stub my frozen toes . As I reached the hot tub , Mike rustled . My attempts at stealth mode had not worked . The water was still nice and warm , we popped a couple more logs on the fire and slipped into the tub again . The sun
would have been rising soon , but this we never saw on that morning . A thick mist hung low over the citrus orchards and made Mikes visibility as bad as mine .
Bouncing in and out of the tub , we packed our gear and ate our meat pies stashed from the day before , all the time , wondering if the mist would ever lift . It was after 9am by the time the skies started to clear a little . As we pulled out from the farm and headed West , the distant mountain peaks showed themselves to be white capped with a snowfall that must have happened through the night . No wonder we were so cold .
The next thirty minutes had us idling due to the thick potato soup we were riding through , all the time , shivering . I was wearing thermal long johns under my pants and about five layers of wardrobe under my jacket . I had on my winter gloves , a winter , and a summer buff , and had been poaching in hot water for much of the previous 12 hours . It meant nothing . By the time we reached
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