Chinese Pirates Take Namibia

Day 4 sparked some unrest. We rose with the blistering sun, covered in paint, and had seemed to have lost all three scooters? A quick scout around our Etosha camp and we retrieved our stallions from the previous nights’ dance-floor.

Then the unthinkable. Molly (James MayDay’s pride and joy – who gets at least 40km more on a tank of fuel) would not start. This was the beginnings of what we called Operation get all three scooters and all three chaps to Livingstone Alive!

We started the troubleshooting process of fixing Molly (while Milo - the resident meerkat – kept a watchful eye on the other bikes). The prognosis: starter motor fail. The contingency plan: the kick-start function. The epic fail: kick start gearing broken. After hours of fiddling, greasing, and re-meshing of gears Molly coughed and rumbled and was roaring to get back on the open Nam roads. Too scared to turn her off we quickly packed up, hopped on the scooters and headed for Tsumeb. It was now sundown! 1440 km to Livingstone…

Although we had already been conditioned to a certain degree of cold (about -5°C) the ride towards Tsumeb became bitterly cold. The effect of putting every single item of clothing we had on meant our torsos were warm, our legs were warm, even our necks were warm, but there were moments of concern that we might lose a few digits! Nevermind, we pulled into a garage, huddled the coffee machine, and confidently requested 6 packets from the cashier lady. A side note: plastic packets work really well under riding gloves!

The Buggers rolled into Tsumeb around 1am into the rest camp where we spotted a couple of teams hiding out. Adrenalin pumping we cruised in (hooting and shouting) to find everyone asleep. A couple of beers and a bite to eat we hit the hay (solid ground). 1150 km to Livingstone…

Day 5 and “Mac Attack” from the Pistons whipped up breakie while we had a chuckle at Beaver (who could only walk on one leg) trying to put his tent down. All packed and ready except for Molly! She would not have any of it. By now our make-shift plan for the kick-start was giving up. But never fear the Silly Buggers would make a plan. Off with Roxy’s (Jared’s) kick-start, and onto Molly. We discovered that the reamer of a leatherman makes for an excellent drilling apparatus and we engineered a new cog mechanism. In the interim Fish made excellent sandwiches, but for the most part irritated us with sports commentary and beer drinking. By midday all teams had left the camp and we were officially in last place (we wouldn’t have it any other way). Jubilation struck as Molly’s engine ticked over, and once more we were off at sundown. With no plan in mind we headed towards the very Free-State-like dorpie of Grootfontein.

   

In high spirits we splashed and dashed through the town around 9pm and put all our efforts into getting to Rundu (the start of the Caprivi Strip). We couldn’t believe our luck when an 18-wheeler over took us as we hitched his slipstream for the next 90km out of Grootfontein. There were moments when carbon monoxide poisoning was a possibility, but it didn’t matter, we were cruising at 80km/h with minimal effort and bright neon! Then came the fireworks…never a good sight to see from one’s exhaust pipe. The victim, Molly again! We all feared the worst as we stood in the middle of nowhere. 940km to Livingstone…

James’s smoke signals managed to slow a copper truck down who thankfully loaded Molly and agreed to take us back to Grootfontein. We arrived back in the dorp around 1am. Perhaps the greatest part of travelling with these chaps is that disappointment doesn’t last too long. After strolling the town’s main road (150m) with two bored police officers we stumbled into a BnB and negotiated accommodation for 3 beers! There were a few chuckles when we learnt we were sharing the place with 70-odd Chinese “Pirates” (all flying out of the nearby military base). Tomorrow would test our grit to get Molly back on the road again.

Day 6, up nice and early and so fate would have it that we slept next door to a motorcycle repair shop. Enter Jan Fiets (surely this was his surname)! The biggest legend in all of Nam. This chap watched all the Put Foot crews pass his shop, and so had researched the rally. It made our lives that much easier as he was keen to get us back on the road as quick as possible. Molly’s underbelly was stripped, and to our relief, it turned out that her flywheel key had sheered (causing zero spark and engine compression). Jan had her rumbling again in 1 hour, and just for good measure decided to service all three bikes. The generosity of people can be truly mind-blowing as he refused to charge us a cent and was purely grateful for the cause that the rally represented. A couple of high-fives later and we were off towards Rundu again.

 With the wind at our backs, 1010km to Livingstone…

(Picture by Tyson Jopson)

Keeping it Silly

Kang The White Unicorn

JHB – Jwaneng – Trans Kalahari – Etosha (1855km)

As the SillyBuggers lined up at the JHB start line, not even the chilly 5am morning could numb our excitement of the task that lay ahead. This was the start of 19 days, 7000km, 7 countries through Southern Africa with our 7 horse-powered machines; Molly, Frances, and Roxy – our kitted out Big Boy scooters!

By now our frozen fingers still managed to wave at the numerous toots and high fives given our way as we cleared the Joburg traffic. Finally we hit open road, full steam ahead (70km/h), and made our way to our first border post into Botswana. In true Sillybugger style we cleared the border at sundown and embarked on our first stretch of night riding. At around 9pm we cruised into a Jwaneng fuel station, our LED lights clearing the path into a dormant and spooky town (que packs of stray dogs and stumbling drunk men).

 Enter King Louis! Tentatively circling our three stallions completely bemused, he proceeded to call his mates and explain how three city-slick chaps resembling UFO’s had cruised into town. We don’t remember too much more from night 1 except devouring dinner and smashing what we thought was the St. Louis Brewery. Needless to say we met a mate of The King, Colin Fletcher, who must own at least 95% of the towns’ resources and women. This chap even payed for our fuel on his town’s tab! Some might  remember in Put Foot 2011  when we ran out of fuel 20km short of Kang and set up Super Camp Site City on the side of the lion stricken highway. Well 2012 held few surprises as we passed out on Colin’s couch 200km short of this elusive town. Nonetheless, all three scooters were safe and sound and ready to hit the long, flat, and wild tarmac of the Kalahari desert.

If we thought the cold on the open road was the best hangover cure, try the blistering rain! Today was our first real taste of open-road biking as we dodged suicidal flamingos and angry ostriches. What followed was something quite extraordinary. Spotted in my side mirror was the orange blur of a 1970-something VW combi – our first Put Foot crew spot. The Pistons of Fury screamed past us (at 83km/h) almost riding over Fish and totalling their car with excitement. High fives were exchanged preceeding a chat where our next drop of fuel would come from. You see, there is no fuel between Kang (the town that sparks shivers of unrest) and the Namibian border. It didn’t surprise me much then when Fish and Jared were lying under the Bots stars at 10pm waiting for James to return from the border post 40km ahead with a full jerry can of fuel.  Needless to say we bid farewell to Botswana and made it 1km through the Nam border. A couple of Tafels and a 2kg steak later and the daunting task of riding 750km to checkpoint 1 hit us.

Now if you haven’t figured it out now, James and Jared are relatively useless when it comes to getting up in the morning. So Fish sneakily used the extra hour we gained crossing the Nam time zone to get us up at 4:30am (something we only figured out later that day). The morning ride session was split up into 30km stints mixed between star-jumps on the open road and warming hands on our exhaust pipes (no innuendos intended). We breezed through Windhoek and gave a few fist pumps Top Gun style to the outbound planes as we past the airport.  

It was now a race of 300km to Etosha, the setting sun, and our extraordinary skill of faffing. In full SillyBugger suites, blue and white LED’s, and bucket loads of excitement we arrived at Toshari camp greated by 250 jubilant Put Footers. We had straddled our 150cc Big Boys to Etosha National Park!

The antics of checkpoint 1 party followed in full animal print as all the crews traded stories of their trans Kalahari adventure. Next mission: Onwards to Livingstone!

  

Keeping it Silly

Fighting Crime, Saving The World...

The chaps hit the streets of Jozi this week in preparation for Put Foot Rally '12. Putting out blazing infernos, saving Labrador puppies, you know, doing our bit. Just one week till departure!  Here's something for now...




 

The Buggers
Keeping it Silly

Cruising In The Big League

Notoriously known for its superbikes and Harley Davidson's, the Hartebeespoort breakfast run is an amazing 100 km bike ride just outside JHB. In true Silly Buggers style, we headed out to join the run...maybe a few cc's and dB's short, but it gave the chaps an opportunity to put a few km's under the belt before we charge to checkpoint 1 in Namibia. 

The run gave the chaps some much needed street cred amongst our superbike league friends, however we will not be getting our knee down anywhere close to that tarmac!

Take-outs from our voyage: get used to 55km/h uphill, and a definite need for yoga therapy every evening after hopping off the saddle!



Keeping it Silly
The Buggers

Licensed to Kill

The Chaps made another break-through today in achieving a Southern Africa scooter circumnavigation...legally!

It was a hop on the scooter at 05:30 sharp and an incredible sunrise ride out to the 120 year old dorp of Vereeniging for phase two of "Operation Acquire Bike Licenses"! (misleadingly we thought the further the testing station, the easier the testing process).

After a few shaky manoeuvres, proceeding chizzeling my iced hand off the handlebars, mission accomplished! The Silly Buggers have BIKE licenses (Que backtrack of screaming children running as Fish bellows one-handed and on one wheel through the streets).

And with the licences a few take outs from our 200km trip: our nads will freeze, our fingers will cramp, our faces will be pummelled with stones; but the Silly Buggers spirits are roaring with excitement!

Keeping it Silly...

Official Silly Buggers Promo Vid

Check out our little promo vid featuring Big Boy scooters. Just 50 odd days left till the adventure begins!
(Click Pic)...

The Buggers

The Scooter Tutors

The Buggers have got a few challenges lined up for Put Foot Rally 2012. Of course the fact that Fish has never ridden on a motorized two wheel machine does not bother us one bit! I mean, we are dealing with a chap who crashed into a bridge on the M1 highway not so long ago, on a bicycle!

This sparked some serious action. So we decided to beat the fear of two wheels out of him in a parking lot at Wits University...

No reindeers were harmed in class.

The Buggers

Keeping it Silly