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DESTINATIONS: Namibian Adventure
Neale Bayly, BMW and friends take a trip to Namibia.
Wikipedia states the Namib Desert gets approximately 0.4 inches of precipitation per year and is one of the driest areas on earth. The rain is falling so hard, it’s bouncing off my gas tank and stinging my face, as it finds its way through the small opening I’ve left between my visor and helmet, I’m wondering if it all falls in one day. Up ahead, through the steamy murk of my dark visor, and a near solid wall of driving rain, I see my riding partner slithering and sliding in the quickly deepening mud. The low-lying sand washes we have been riding through for the past days are now quickly growing rivers, getting deeper by the minute as the incessant downpour pounds the saturated ground.
Separated from our group and miles ahead of the support truck, I’m grateful for my more-experienced companion’s position on point, as we ease up to negotiate the next water hazard. Up on the pegs, gentle and consistent on the gas, my partner makes it look easy, as he calmly makes the crossing and rolls up on the far side to wait. Easing out the clutch, standing on the pegs, and leaning back as my F800GS enters the murky water, I lock my eyes on my exit point, relax my grip on the bars, and maintain a steady throttle. With water splashing over the tank and streaming against my knees this is not the time to be spinning the rear wheel. Thankfully the faultless fueling keeps us moving forward on the lightest of throttle openings, and I’m across. Receiving a big thumbs up and a beaming grin for my efforts, it’s back to business as we make our way to the next challenge
Fighting for traction, while wondering how long before the low-lying areas get so flooded they become impassable, we arrive at a very wide crossing. Checking up, it’s business as usual as I wait my turn. Halfway across, my partner’s bike nearly disappears the water is so deep, and as it slides first one way then the other, it pops onto a small, mud island, before disappearing into the next deep hole. And then in an instant it happens. The front wheel hits a submerged rock, which jumps up above the surface, knocking the bars almost out of his hands and flicking the bike hard to the side. By quickly sticking out a leg, he saves the bike from falling into the rushing water. But with his boot being pushed into the soft, muddy river bottom by the weight of the heavily leaning machine, he is stuck. Trying to ride out digs the rear wheel deeper in the soft mud, and it’s only a matter of time before gravity does its job and traps him beneath the machine in the quickly deepening water.
Breathing deeply, I roll into the water and fight to keep focus on the far bank. Not knowing what’s under the dark, muddy water, and knowing I can’t afford to make a mistake as my partner fights to hold his bike up against the current, it’s the most stressful hundred yards I’ve ever ridden. Using all the techniques I’ve learned at BMW training school, I relax and let the GS do its thing, reaching the other side without any drama. Parking up, I dive back into the river, run to the stranded GS, and get my shoulder under the tank and together we heave it upright. Splashing to the rear, I apply weight while pushing, as I hear the engine gently pulling and the bike rolls effortlessly onto safer ground. Riding with BMW CEO Hendrik von Kuenheim in the wilds of Namibia, I can’t think of too many more challenging two-wheeled experiences, or many more accomplished riders I’ve ridden with, in thirty-five years on two wheels in more than forty foreign countries.
I had joined Mr. von Kuenheim in Namibia, along with an assortment of journalists, television people, support truck drivers and guides from all over the world a few days earlier. With a five-day ride planned, BMW brought in a fleet of F800GS motorcycles, and a few R1200GS bikes for the staff members. I have ridden the F800GS in Africa and extensively in Peru, so was personally very happy about the choice and extremely motivated to ride this fascinating country.
With clear skies and temperatures climbing into the 80s, we left the city of Windhoek and headed north. Passing Teufelsbach and Okahandja, we turned west before our first coffee break and a chance to meet some local people selling arts and crafts. It’s been unnaturally wet in Namibia for the past few weeks, and I learn from my new best mate, Gavin, that it’s not normally this green. As a South African who first came to this area as a soldier, he has ridden here many times since, and seeing the countryside like this is apparently very special. The riding is fantastic, with occasional river crossings and deep sand where the road dips so we have a few fallers, but thankfully no real drama. From a riding perspective, it’s a short day so we can enjoy a safari later in the early evening, and it’s the perfect way to get settled, start unplugging from the habits of daily life, and get acquainted with riding in Africa.
Our accommodation for the night is the Erindi Lodge, located 25 kilometers from the main road in the middle of the Erindi Game Reserve. The game reserve itself covers more than 280 square miles and is home to more than 12,000 different kinds of wild animals. Driving in an open Land Cruiser for many miles on dirt roads, we see a plethora of smaller birds and animals before coming across a male lion lying on the tracks. We stop so close I can see all of his markings and scars with perfect clarity, and marvel at this majestic beast. Later we find four cheetahs and watch them hunt, three sisters and a stray that spent their first seven years in captivity it’s like being in the middle of a National Geographic television show.
The sun is rising into a cloudless sky as our day starts with watching baby warthogs, kudu, springbok, and crocodiles from the balcony during breakfast. With no sign of any cloud cover, it’s going to be a hot one as we saddle up and head west toward Omaruru. It’s medium-packed sand and gravel and it’s possible to roll along at 60-70mph with little stress. A long, tricky river crossing provides some excitement, and, before I can catch my breath we are deep in our next adventure. Stopping for gas, removing my helmet, and gulping down a cold drink, I see our team doctor, Axel, eating some sort of large insect. Gavin tells me, “They taste like shit,” as we watch the good doctor munching away. Minutes later, washing the dry, gritty bits of un-swallowed bug from my mouth with Gatorade, I’m in compete agreement.
Back out in the African countryside, the graded gravel roads are fairly smooth, as low, faded mountains accompany us on our horizons, and occasional deep sandy washouts keep us on our toes. We are heading towards the ocean and slowly begin to lose the foliage as we ride through this vast desert. The temperatures are soaring, but it’s deceptive with the dry air, so it’s vital to stay hydrated, as the riding demands a lot of physical and mental effort. Occasionally enticing patches of shady trees sprout out of the bush, but we roll on, and by now have settled into two distinct groups. Stopping regularly to take pictures I’m with the BMW staff at the back, and it’s a lot of fun getting to spend time with people I normally see only in passing at press introductions.
Separated from our group and miles ahead of the support truck, I’m grateful for my more-experienced companion’s position on point, as we ease up to negotiate the next water hazard. Up on the pegs, gentle and consistent on the gas, my partner makes it look easy, as he calmly makes the crossing and rolls up on the far side to wait. Easing out the clutch, standing on the pegs, and leaning back as my F800GS enters the murky water, I lock my eyes on my exit point, relax my grip on the bars, and maintain a steady throttle. With water splashing over the tank and streaming against my knees this is not the time to be spinning the rear wheel. Thankfully the faultless fueling keeps us moving forward on the lightest of throttle openings, and I’m across. Receiving a big thumbs up and a beaming grin for my efforts, it’s back to business as we make our way to the next challenge
Fighting for traction, while wondering how long before the low-lying areas get so flooded they become impassable, we arrive at a very wide crossing. Checking up, it’s business as usual as I wait my turn. Halfway across, my partner’s bike nearly disappears the water is so deep, and as it slides first one way then the other, it pops onto a small, mud island, before disappearing into the next deep hole. And then in an instant it happens. The front wheel hits a submerged rock, which jumps up above the surface, knocking the bars almost out of his hands and flicking the bike hard to the side. By quickly sticking out a leg, he saves the bike from falling into the rushing water. But with his boot being pushed into the soft, muddy river bottom by the weight of the heavily leaning machine, he is stuck. Trying to ride out digs the rear wheel deeper in the soft mud, and it’s only a matter of time before gravity does its job and traps him beneath the machine in the quickly deepening water.
Breathing deeply, I roll into the water and fight to keep focus on the far bank. Not knowing what’s under the dark, muddy water, and knowing I can’t afford to make a mistake as my partner fights to hold his bike up against the current, it’s the most stressful hundred yards I’ve ever ridden. Using all the techniques I’ve learned at BMW training school, I relax and let the GS do its thing, reaching the other side without any drama. Parking up, I dive back into the river, run to the stranded GS, and get my shoulder under the tank and together we heave it upright. Splashing to the rear, I apply weight while pushing, as I hear the engine gently pulling and the bike rolls effortlessly onto safer ground. Riding with BMW CEO Hendrik von Kuenheim in the wilds of Namibia, I can’t think of too many more challenging two-wheeled experiences, or many more accomplished riders I’ve ridden with, in thirty-five years on two wheels in more than forty foreign countries.
I had joined Mr. von Kuenheim in Namibia, along with an assortment of journalists, television people, support truck drivers and guides from all over the world a few days earlier. With a five-day ride planned, BMW brought in a fleet of F800GS motorcycles, and a few R1200GS bikes for the staff members. I have ridden the F800GS in Africa and extensively in Peru, so was personally very happy about the choice and extremely motivated to ride this fascinating country.
With clear skies and temperatures climbing into the 80s, we left the city of Windhoek and headed north. Passing Teufelsbach and Okahandja, we turned west before our first coffee break and a chance to meet some local people selling arts and crafts. It’s been unnaturally wet in Namibia for the past few weeks, and I learn from my new best mate, Gavin, that it’s not normally this green. As a South African who first came to this area as a soldier, he has ridden here many times since, and seeing the countryside like this is apparently very special. The riding is fantastic, with occasional river crossings and deep sand where the road dips so we have a few fallers, but thankfully no real drama. From a riding perspective, it’s a short day so we can enjoy a safari later in the early evening, and it’s the perfect way to get settled, start unplugging from the habits of daily life, and get acquainted with riding in Africa.
Our accommodation for the night is the Erindi Lodge, located 25 kilometers from the main road in the middle of the Erindi Game Reserve. The game reserve itself covers more than 280 square miles and is home to more than 12,000 different kinds of wild animals. Driving in an open Land Cruiser for many miles on dirt roads, we see a plethora of smaller birds and animals before coming across a male lion lying on the tracks. We stop so close I can see all of his markings and scars with perfect clarity, and marvel at this majestic beast. Later we find four cheetahs and watch them hunt, three sisters and a stray that spent their first seven years in captivity it’s like being in the middle of a National Geographic television show.
The sun is rising into a cloudless sky as our day starts with watching baby warthogs, kudu, springbok, and crocodiles from the balcony during breakfast. With no sign of any cloud cover, it’s going to be a hot one as we saddle up and head west toward Omaruru. It’s medium-packed sand and gravel and it’s possible to roll along at 60-70mph with little stress. A long, tricky river crossing provides some excitement, and, before I can catch my breath we are deep in our next adventure. Stopping for gas, removing my helmet, and gulping down a cold drink, I see our team doctor, Axel, eating some sort of large insect. Gavin tells me, “They taste like shit,” as we watch the good doctor munching away. Minutes later, washing the dry, gritty bits of un-swallowed bug from my mouth with Gatorade, I’m in compete agreement.
Back out in the African countryside, the graded gravel roads are fairly smooth, as low, faded mountains accompany us on our horizons, and occasional deep sandy washouts keep us on our toes. We are heading towards the ocean and slowly begin to lose the foliage as we ride through this vast desert. The temperatures are soaring, but it’s deceptive with the dry air, so it’s vital to stay hydrated, as the riding demands a lot of physical and mental effort. Occasionally enticing patches of shady trees sprout out of the bush, but we roll on, and by now have settled into two distinct groups. Stopping regularly to take pictures I’m with the BMW staff at the back, and it’s a lot of fun getting to spend time with people I normally see only in passing at press introductions.
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