and is hidden away in a conservancy that borders the Swartberg Nature Reserve and the meals are out of this world. But there is no sokkie, alas, for your bokkie.
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Calitzdorp
From where you leave the R62 in Calitzdorp to the R328 just south of the Swartberg Pass it is just over 50 km.
You can do it in just over an hour if you are in a hurry, but rather allow a generous three hours and do a return trip.
When you think you’ve seen it all: Cloete’s Pass
My road map doesn’t let on whether this is a scenic route or not. It seems flat and one-dimensional. The lines that connect the vital organs of cities and towns like veins run this way and that for no apparent reason.
When you are forced to travel by motorbike from Cape Town to George (and back again) for the sixth time in three weeks, you desperately crave a novel experience. Even Route 62 can start to lose its charm – nowadays all you see is one tour bus after the other, full of Dutch or German tourists. And the frenetic N2 is spectacular only up to the turn-off to Hermanus. After that the beauty dries up, as though Mother Nature ran out of steam past Houwhoek.
Besides, if you want to ride an adventure-touring bike, you want dirt under your wheels – obscure back roads and secret trails that make you feel as though you’re the first to see the new vista that opens up in front of you.
That was what made me pick up the road map to look more closely at the line that turned off southwards at Lemoenshoek, about 15 km on the other side of Barrydale – towards Brandrivier. It was a thin black vein, so not tar. What would it involve? There are mountains in that area, that much I knew. It had the Little Karoo on one side and coastal plains on the other. But what lay in between?
On the sixth trip to George I found out.
The first section, from Lemoenshoek on the R62 (just before you turn left on the R323) is lovely, without being totally enchanting. With the Langeberg in the distance, it takes you through ostrich, sheep and goat farms with names like Klein-Doornrivier, Hoëveld and Phesantefontein. At Springfontein the road curves widely and climbs into the hills. As you look back, the arid earth makes African pastels in ochre, yellow, dirty white and brown up to the foot of the Rooiberg. It’s only when you’ve travelled the piece of R323 tar road, and turned left after just 2,7 km onto the gravel road, that you realise what you may be letting yourself in for.
The first is the low-water bridge over the Gouritz (before it’s gathered up the streams of the Langeberg – still insignificant, but at least swollen with glittering water in summer). A twin-track road, cemented against erosion, dives down suddenly to the river.
You spend some time on the bridge. Across the river bed is a black cliff, as rough and wild as though it was formed only yesterday. You cool off from the heat of the biker suit with a splash of cold water and then storm up the slope on the other side with a flourish, ever closer to the Langeberg. Your dirt road becomes the R327 and you see the sign to Van Wyksdorp, but keep straight on, meandering over the hills. Sometimes the route winds through ancient stone-built farmyards. Ostriches bound up to the fence and run crazily alongside. Behind them the peaks tower high and dramatic.
When it seems you are about to collide with the ridges, the road dips down into a narrow pass with a brook babbling somewhere just behind the trees. You see the Cloete’s Pass signboard beside the road. It sweeps and curves, sometimes more sharply than you expect, first down, then higher and higher, until a valley opens out below and you see the small farm paradise of Langfontein far below.
Suddenly the plants are lusher and the colours deeper. It’s green here, and pretty – the sort of landscape that lures you to look for a piece of ground and a cottage with a fireplace. And, even though you know it’s the start of the coastal plain, the hills lie plaited together to the south and you suspect there are a lot more spectacles ahead.
You’re through the drift at Langfontein and you are barely up the steep slope on the other side, looking for the road sign to Mossel Bay, when you almost overshoot the turn-off on your left (the turn is at S33 59.503 E21 47.022, if you want to use your GPS). It’s still north of Herbertsdale and now the road surface is narrow, deteriorating to farm track in places, loose gravel and mud from the recent rain. Fourteen kilometres on, you turn left again (another hidden road, at S34 01.335 E21 53.869). You are on the seaward side of the Langeberg and the ridges roll on, but suddenly, over a rise, the view of the day presents itself: the Outeniqua plains and you swear you can see the splendour of it all the way to George.
All too soon you are at Ruitersbos and on the tarred R328 towards the sea, but already you’re making plans to bring a group of six adventure-tour bikes this way in December. You also want them to experience this sense of awe. One thing is certain: the road from Cape Town to George won’t be boring again anytime soon.
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Barrydale
From Barrydale to Mossel Bay it is 183 km.
Two hours 30 minutes, but you will definitely want to take some photos: allow three and a half hours.
Seweweekspoort
It happens every time you take novices through Seweweekspoort: they can’t stop staring. It’s the kind of expression you see on men’s faces when a supermodel walks past – flabbergasted, wide-eyed amazement, with an accompanying slack jaw.
And the comparison doesn’t end there. No matter
