It rained overnight again and was still sprinkling in the morning, so no bike maintenance today. We were on the road by 8:45 and were at the motorcycle store by 9:00. I went upstairs to the parts department, picked up the tires, and took them to the counter. Not relishing the thought of paying nearly 80 USD for these unlovely rubber donuts, I asked if there was a discount if I bought two. The parts kid looked them up in the computer and said he could sell them for 470NAD (59 USD) for the pair. Sold. I carried them back down to our bikes and strapped yet another tire onto each of our loads. I am afraid our bikes are beginning to resemble the Clampett's truck as they pulled into Beverly (Hills, that is).

At least it had stopped raining as we headed west out of town. The ride was cool this morning and the scenery changed from green scrub and low trees to desert by the end of the ride. Around 1pm, they temperature warmed dramatically and stayed that way until about 40 miles from Swakopmund, when it dropped noticeably. During the ride we stopped for gas in Karibib, where we saw several BMW R1200GSs in the parking lot and pulled up next to them. While I walked the gas can to the pumps, Re met the rider of one of the GSs, who was an Edelweiss tour leader. We ended up chatting with him for 10 minutes or so while his group reassembled and compared notes on our two completely different rides. I had to smile a little when I noted that not only did they have a chase vehicle for the luggage, but that they were also carrying a spare R1200GS in the back. Makes our tool pouch look kinda chintzy by comparison, doesn't it?

Back on the road, we did see a hornbill and some sort of humongous eagle, but no other wildlife today. We made it to Swakopmund around 5:00pm and found a place to camp for the night. I would like to mention, we are carrying the 2010 edition of the Lonely Planet Southern Africa guidebook, which is the most recent edition and is supposed to be “fully updated.” Well, it ain't. The prices have been wrong by about half again, and even the maps are wrong. A few years ago, Namibia changed the names of many streets to those of important figures in Namibian independence, but the maps in the Lonely Planet don't reflect these changes. Also, for instance, the book lists a tour of the Hansa Brewery, which has apparently been closed for three years or more, according to the proprietress of our guesthouse. And just about every guesthouse they list as having internet access does not.

235 miles in about 8 hours. Bikes are wheezing a little and did not enjoy the all day headwind.

Our plan for today was to ride through the Namib-Naukluft Park, specifically the Welwitschia Drive. The welwitschia is an extremely long lived desert plant, living up to 1500 years. In reading about Namibia, we've seen plenty of pictures and wanted to see them in person. Also not mentioned in the Loser's Planet is the permit required to drive the loop. When we went to get the permit, Re found out that motorcycles are not allowed in the park. Even though there are no lions in the Namib desert, there is a blanket exclusion in all Namibian national parks. Boo. Re spoke to the Chief Warden of the park and found out that we could at least ride part of it without a permit since part of the loop is on public roads, and we might see a welwitschia in that section. But we didn't.

But we did have a great ride and saw lots of other cool stuff,



including springbok, two herds of ostriches running across the desert, and some spectacular desert scenery.





Re also enjoyed riding the dirt and gravel D road that took us back to the main highway. We also experienced our first Symba watersplashes on this same road. The Swakop River crosses this road, and enough rain fell recently for the crossing to be muddy and have a few inches of water in it. We powered our way through!

We ate our picnic lunch around 1pm and headed south toward Walvis Bay.


The route we took went along Dune 7 most of the way. Dune 7 is a humongous sand dune- it must be several hundred yards high and miles and miles long.



We pulled into the public dune riding area for the photo op. Walvis Bay was kind of, meh, but we did see dozens and dozens of motorcycles in town and riding toward town as we headed back north to Swakopmund. It suddenly occurred to me that I had read it was bike week in Walvis Bay this weekend in another ride report. It was again a chilly and foggy ride back to Swakopmund. The high temperature has only been in the 60s with lows in the 40s at the coast. We have now been on the road for two months and celebrated with a self-catered dinner of toasted cheese and creamed spinach with feta (and maybe too many Carling Black Labels).

118 miles in some number of hours. The bikes ran well and handled the sand and watersplash with aplomb.

Munching on me popcorn and enjoying the trip report

Thanks
geordie

Re and I were planning to start our trip toward Victoria Falls today. We had a choice of two routes- one that was paved the entire way, and another that involved about 200 miles of gravel roads. Initially, I was planning on the paved route but had heard from many other people who had driven in Namibia how good the gravel roads were. Mistake #1 was that I listened to them.

It rained overnight and the power went out in the entire town near morning. We woke to a wet campsite and no electricity for the coffee pot at the guesthouse. We dawdled around, hoping the rain would stop but were honestly freezing our butts off. Fortunately the water heaters that fed the showers at the guesthouse still had enough hot water for both of us to shower and warm up before we packed up the bikes and started out at around 9:30. Our first stop was the gas station for a quick fill-up, but it didn't happen that way. While our bikes were being filled, two Africa Twin riders pulled in and hopped off their bikes for a chat. It turns out that one of them was Onno (1NiteOwl) and one of his friends, who were in the middle of a ride from South Africa through Botswana and Namibia and back home again. While we were chatting with them, some other bike week revelers pulled up and also wanted to chat with us. We again told our story, shook hands, posed for photos, AND declined the invitation to ride with them to Walvis Bay for bike week. Mistake #2 was not going with them.

After at least 30 minutes at the gas station, we headed north up the C34 toward Henties Bay. It was still drizzling and cold as we rode further north and eventually turned east on the C35. As we rode toward Henties Bay, the theme song to Gilligan's Island was going through my head. I kept looping on the three hour tour part. I'm not a superstitious person, but I think ignoring this “sign” was Mistake #3 for the day.

The first 10 miles or so of the C35 were nicely groomed, hard-packed dirt and sand and was easy riding. Suddenly the road surface changed to imbedded rocks covered by larger gravel and drifts of dusty sand. Our speed went from 45mph down to 30, and even to 20 on some of the more roughly corrugated sections. Maybe Mistake #4 was continuing on after Re saw one of her spare tires rolling through the desert, since the roughness of the road caused the bungee to let loose. But we persevered. With visions of broken spokes and punctured tires dancing in my head, we continued. That's when Re apparently decided to see whether the sand in Namibia tastes the same as the sand in America. We were in one of the smoother sections and were riding close to the left edge of the road at about 35mph when, in my rear view mirror, I saw Rebekah drift farther to the left and into about 4 inches of soft sand. Well, ****. Re put up a valiant fight against the forces of physics, but like all of us, she eventually lost. I could see her bike fishtailing and then saw the puff of dust and nothing more. Well, double ****. I spun my bike around and went back to see what the damage was. Re was lying face down in the sand, not moving and more concerning still, she was not swearing. She said she was okay and that everything was working but was clearly very shaken up. She spent enough years at the racetrack with me to know that the first concern is the bike, so after she got her leg out from under the bike, we assessed the damage. I figured it was better to keep her focused on something besides what just happened and sent her off to pick up the various ejecta from the bike. Her one spare tire was, once again, in the desert, along with her bike lock. The bike actually crashed well- nothing was broken, only a bent footpeg, the headlight out of adjustment, and a bent turn signal mount. The real casualty (other than Re's confidence) was her MSR Dromedary water bag, which was now crying all over the desert. Re's only complaints at this time were a bruise near her elbow on her right arm, her right pinky finger, and her right shoulder. All were working but sore.

After we repacked the bike, we continued on for maybe 10 more miles at no more than 20mph, and the road never got better. And then, we discovered that Re's tire had gone AWOL once again. Re was still looking a little upset, so I said I would go look for the tire while she took a break. I headed back from whence we came, figuring there was no chance I would actually find this tire, that it would have rolled off into the desert someplace, gone for good. It was a pleasant surprise, when about 6.5miles back, I found it laying on the shoulder of the road. At least one thing went right today. Not wanting to find a place for it in my pile of crap, I wore it like a necklace for the ride back. When I made it back to where I'd left Re, she giggled at my new jewelry. We consulted the map and realized we were only about 40 miles into this 150 mile gravel section. At this point, I started doing the math to determine how long it would take us to reach our destination, and it wasn't going to be tonight. It was at this point that Re suggested we admit defeat, put our tails between our legs, and slink back to Swakopmund. This was the best idea I had heard all day. Re knows that I do not like to backtrack, but in this situation, it was the wisest thing to do.

We retraced the nearly 90 miles back to Swakopmund, only to find that most of the guesthouses were full (it was Saturday night). We didn't want to camp again since our tent and gear were still wet, and it was still cold. Re did find a nice place for us to stay that was a little beyond our usual budget, but in light of everything that happened today, it was well worth it. The ride back was miserable for a couple of reasons: first, it was genuinely cold, and our hands were nearly numb by the end of the ride, second, we were fighting a fierce headwind for the final 40 miles of the ride, finally, it gave me plenty of time to think about Re's crash. Back on her KLX650, she's tipped over at a near standstill several times, but this was her first real crash. She seemed to be okay with it, or was at least putting on a good face, but it's a bad feeling to watch the woman you love crash in the rear view mirror. It also made me consider, why are we here, and why are we doing this? We spent the evening talking about a lot of these issues, and Re is fully committed to going on. But we did agree that we are going to have to realize the limitations of our little bikes and stick to paved roads for safety's sake.

161 miles in 7 hours. Re's bike took a nap and my speedometer cable vibrated loose.

After yesterday's misadventures, we were both anxious to get on the road, the paved one this time. After a great night of sleep under a fluffy duvet, we ate our included breakfast, and I heartily enjoyed my bacon, eggs, and toast. This was the first bacon I've had since Ohio, and I remember why I like it so much. After lowering the tire pressures for the gravel section yesterday, I aired them back up to road pressure to the entertainment of several other hotel guests. As I previously mentioned, this hotel was much nicer than our usual accommodations, and I don't think the other guests were expecting to see our kind there.



We hoped that it was a good sign that it was sunny and clear this morning, as this was the first sun we'd seen in Swakopmund, so we left. The ride started out cool, but as we headed inland, it warmed up nicely and the sun stayed with us all day. The other factor that made the day's ride so enjoyable was the absence of our nemesis: the Namibian headwind. We were able to cruise at 45mph at three quarters throttle and covered the miles quickly. Last night, Re and I carefully looked at the maps and possible routes eastward, with the new understanding that we will be confined to sealed roads. We discussed the northern and southern routes to Botswana, and eventually to Victoria Falls. The southern route would take us through the northern edge of the Kalahari and Ghanzi before heading to Maun and up to Victoria Falls. The northern route would take us through Grootfontein, up to Rundu, through the East Caprivi, and into Botswana at Chobe National Park. We decided on the northern route on the advice of several other travelers and Namibians. They stated that northern Namibia is the true Namibia. So north it was.



Our new route took us back up the B2 to Karibib, then north on the C33 through Omaruru, and then to Otjiwarongo for the night. Around lunchtime we stopped for fuel (again) and picked up yet another lunch of pies to picnic on at a nearby rest area. After our lunch of pies and carrots, we continued north. Along the ride today, we saw warthogs, the biggest baboons we've seen so far, giraffes, and some sort of curly-horned antelope. We rolled into Otjiwarongo around 5pm and soon found a very nice campground. While I set up the tent, Re headed into town and soon returned with the makings of dinner. She cooked new potatoes with onions and boerwors (the local sausages). After we finished dinner and washed up, a couple of the local cats showed up for dinner, but they were too late. We told them to come back in the morning, and maybe there would be some leftover eggs for them. The other odd featured of the campground was the flock of 50- 100 helmeted guinea fowl that pointlessly ran back and forth all evening. I wondered aloud how they would be on the braai.

I also took the opportunity to figure out our likely route to Dar es Salaam. We've been in Africa for two weeks now and need to figure out how and when we are getting to India. Zimbabwe looks most likely, not for Zimbabwe sake, but mostly because other travelers have warned us away from Zambia mostly due to the border corruption issues, road conditions, and relative expense. Ciphering done, we headed for bed.

259 miles in about 8 hours. The bikes purred along today.

It got cold overnight. Re and I both woke up in need of a warm shower. Since we only had a short ride today, we were in no particular hurry, so we made a relatively easy morning of it. Re had picked up eggs for breakfast today, so she scrambled them, and as if on cue, the local cats from last evening made an appearance. We had a fun time feeding them and a good laugh when one helped himself to what was left of our butter. Everything on the bikes was in spec except for the header bolts, which all needed slight tightening. Oil level is okay, but it needs to be changed.

The ride to Tsumeb only took about 3 ½ hours but we did fight a headwind the entire way. Today's short ride was dictated by tomorrow's long run to Rundu, and Tsumeb was chosen because, according to Loser's Planet, our guesthouse for the evening had internet. Along the way, we saw a couple of different kinds of antelope (we really need to look these up sometime), another hornbill, and wildebeest.

We arrived in Tsumeb around 1:30pm, and it was a bust. Disappointingly but unsurprisingly, the guesthouse had no internet. On the plus side, the rate to camp was lower than listed in the book. We decided to take the afternoon off and catch up on RRs and blog posts that we will upload at the local internet cafe when they open in the morning. Lunch and dinner were self-catered again from the local grocery store. We also took the opportunity to get some laundry done. We also spoke with other travelers who were staying at this guesthouse and heard of a place to stay in Chobe.

131 miles in 3 ½ hours. The rear tires are getting thin, will need to be replaced soon.

Up early this morning since I wanted to change the oil in the bikes before we hit the road. Unfortunately the wind was blowing very hard, and the sand and dust storm made the oil change no fun. As an added bonus, I trapped my finger between the wrench and the oil sump, giving myself a humongous blood blister at the tip of my left thumb, which promptly split and bled all over the place.

Maintenance done, we hit the road toward Grootfontein, and of course, fought a head wind the entire way. We stopped for lunch and fuel in Grootfontein, where we loaded up our jerrycans for the further 160 mile run to Rundu. From now on, fuel stations will be even farther apart. The ride to Rundu was what we imagined Africa to be. We didn't see another white face until we reached Rundu.



All along the road were traditional dwellings and people going about their daily business. Both Re and I could barely lift our left arms by the end of the ride- they were worn out from waving so much! The little kids, especially, seemed to be excited to see us, running toward the road and waving, ofter with both hands as we rode past. Everywhere we stopped to refuel, we drew a small crowd. The only wildlife today were hundreds of cows and goats (mostly in the road).

We finally rolled into Rundu at around 5:30. We cruised through town to find accommodations, and not seeing anything, reluctantly consulted the Lonely Planet. One recommended place was near the town center, so we headed in that direction. We turned left onto a road made entirely of 3” deep sand, and the recommended guesthouse was another 2.5km down the sand road. Fortunately, 275meters down the sand road was another guesthouse with camping. Re and I quickly decided to try here and found that in addition to camping, they had a fan bungalow for a reasonable price. Since tomorrow's ride to Katima Mulilo will be over 300 miles, our longest ride in Africa so far, we opted for the bungalow to save the time of striking camp in the morning. After paying for our room we walked back to the bikes, and it was then that I noticed Re's flat rear tire. Yay.

As our bungalow was only about 100 yards from reception, we decided to ride to the bungalow slowly and fix the flat there. As I got back on my bike, I thought I smelled burnt oil, looked down, and discovered that in my haste this morning I failed to screw in my oil dipstick all the way. After reaching the bungalow I added oil to my bike and found that it had only lost approximately 150cc's. Hopefully no damage has occurred. Note to self: double check everything. Before Re headed out for food on my bike, she helped me remove the rear wheel from her bike. I am once again glad the Symbas have center stands. We both inspected the tire for a puncture, and neither of us could find one. After she left, I partially dismounted the tire to get to the tube and immediately found the problem. Before I removed the tire, I noticed that the balance mark on the tire was no longer lined up with the valve stem, which seemed odd, because it was aligned when I installed it. Apparently the 7hp of the apocalypse was enough to spin the rear tire on the rim and put a wrinkle in the tube. I never thought I would have needed rim locks on a Symba. I got the patch kit out, glued on a patch, waited a few minutes, and put the wheel back together. I pumped the tire up to 33psi and left it sit overnight to see if the patch held. We are carrying two spare tubes if needed, but I want to save them until they're really needed.



As I picked up the tools, Re returned with dinner. So what are we having for dinner tonight, Rebekah? How about, more pies. The local grocery store had few options that could be prepared easily. At least we are eating a lot of fruit to balance out the pies (I like pies. The USA needs more pies). The best part of dinner was watching the sun set over the Kavango River and looking into Angola while we ate on the porch of our bungalow. We both enjoyed a shower before bed to remove the thick layer of dust that covered us.

210 miles in about 7 hours. Remember to tighten anything you loosen, and we had our first flat tire of the trip.