3 Generation Run – Day One to Port Elizabeth (26/11/2007)

Posted: December 2, 2007 in Uncategorized


3 bikes, 2 carb-fed thirsty monsters and one fuel injected acceleration junkie. 🙂  

Well, where to begin?

We ended up leaving an hour or two later than expected than originally intended. This was the beginning of the end of the day.


From Johannesburg to Villiers in good time and with great consumption all things considered. While filling up and getting something to drink, we discovered that my grandfather (Derrick) was in the next town and waiting because of us. So, of course, we filled up and gassed it to the next town. This was the beginning of the end of the Honda CB900F’s clutch.

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We finally arrive in Warden after searching for a little while to find the Red MONSTER (BMW R100RS). We eventually found a waiting rider as the bike had been stashed out of sight. The next port of call was lunch, for this the Warden Lodge was chosen and food was ordered and certainly worth the wait. The food was AWESOME, no complaints from our now 4 strong team. If you ever find yourself in Warden, definitely look up the Warden Lodge.

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The whole gang, The RED MONSTER (BMW R100RS), THE GRANNY (Honda CB900F) and THE LUNATIC (Honda CBR600RR Telefonica)

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The Warden Lodge


Where all caps go to die.


Our gang and the respective ages.

Derrick Whitfiled (GP, 74), Michaela Kelly (MK, 48), Allan Whitfield (AW, 43) and Fletcher Kelly (FK, 25)


By now we had decided to make up some time and get a move on. The next stop was so quick that I do not even remember the name.

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Paul Roux

After making a slight detour in an attempt to make up time, only to discover that Murphy has struck again and cost us time, we decided to double back and resume the original route. The pressure was really on, we were not making good time and we were running out of hours in the day. Now it was really GO TIME.

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Ficksburg (a backwater)

Not contented to be abonded in aul Roux, Murphy has evidentally sped ahead and was lying in wait for us at our next port of call, Ficksburg. The rest of my team had misinterpreted/ignored my frantic signals to show the coming torrential downpour. Sure enough the heavens opened up and we got drenched, I hate being right all the time :P. A few kilometres outside of the town, it was rain and then HAIL of all things. HAIL and bikes DO NOT MIX. Your helmet begins to reverberate and the sound inside the helmet is phenomenal. Next we decided to turn our bikes into jetskis as the RED MONSTER decided to distribute most generously a newly formed river across the remaining two bikes. Murphy, not yet done with us for the day had a few pranks lined up for our evening’s entertainment. The one and only garage and form of shelter leaked worse than the river we had already absorbed on the way in. Cold, miserable and completely soaked with the prospect of running out of luck and daylight before the next town, we decided to give in gracefully. Murphy was not finished with us yet, he gad garnered the service of Zeus and his infamous Lightning Bolt and plunged the town into darkness. Picture the scene, darkness, no power and no prospect of a warm anything. We were not happy campers 😦

We eventually managed to find the one "brightspark" of the town who owned a generator and a warm meal was acquired. The police would have helped us find our way around the town with their searchlights if they had not blinded us first. We eventually tucked in for the night hoping to make an early start the following day. At this point in time we are only 400 kms into a 1200 km epic journey. HOME and its creature comforts were looking great and PE a LONG LONG LONG way away.

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