Cape Town to Angola on a Bajaj Pulsar

15.10.08

Cape Town To Angola 40 Days On Two Bajaj 180s Cape Town, Vioolsdrif, Windhoek, Otjiwarongo, Epupa Falls, Outjo, Otjikoto, Opuwo, , Okangwati, Swartbooisdrif, Ruacana, Oshakati, Ondangwa, Tsumeb, Grootfontein, Rundu, Katima Mulilo, Victoria Falls, Gaborone, Ramatlabama, Kimberley, Karoo, Port Elizabeth, Cape Town. Father and son, Charles and Daniel Brownell, spent 40 days riding Bajaj Pulsars for 7573km from Cape Town to the Angolan border, going east from Epupa Falls to Ruacana along a 4x4 track, along the Caprivi to the border. Then to Vic Falls, and back through Botswana, the NW Province, NE Cape Province and the Garden Route. “After our very successful trip, we are convinced that this little bike (with a price tag to match) has a lot to offer. We were impressed. The trip showed what you can do with a 180cc Bajaj Pulsar if you really want to. “We were called crazy and daft by a friendly local in Mafikeng on our way back and were inside by the newspaper rack looking at the headlines. We’d been on the road for 30 days without seeing a paper or TV news, and just wondered if the rest of the world was still out there. He had asked if those were our bikes out front and where were we were going. It was after we said we were on our way back to Cape Town from Zambia that he shook his head and made his assessment of our mental state. “It wasn’t the first time we’d heard those words on our trip. Heinz, a BMW biker, and recent veteran of a Bike SA Desrt Run in Namibia, pulled his bakkie over to say hello while we were chatting with some locals in Opuwo. He said he saw us the day before motoring north on a gravel detour road and admitted he’d laughed out loud when he saw us. “Who are these crazy guys?!” He could tell we were on a long trip, but there was “something wrong with this picture”. Instead of riding respectable bikes like his, we had what looked like delivery bikes. “Instead of shiny aluminium bolt-on boxes with reinforced corners and a fashionable tank bag, we had picnic cooler bags from Game hung by their nylon strap handles. “instead of two-tone leather pants and jackets advertising fuel injector cleaner we were wearing old jeans, beat-up jackets, and cotton gloves you might put on to go weed the garden. My dad’s helmet was the same one he wore when he rode his 1954 Harley Davidson KH Sportster back in his college years. It just needed some new foam glued to the inside and a couple coats of spray paint on the outside to bring it back to life. Heinz invited us to stop at his prospecting camp in Okangwati on our way through, and we took him up on his offer, enjoying some cold beer together before continuing north to the Cunene River.” The Story: When we chose motorcycles for this trip, we had a few basic requirements. They needed to be (1) reliable, (2) cheap, (3) equipped with a kick-start, and (4) have places to stick a backpack and a couple saddlebags. We weren’t sure how far into the bush we would end up, so we needed space for food, water, extra fuel, and enough tools and spares to cover the basics. We wanted to be as self-sufficient as you can comfortably get on motorbikes. After several months of watching the classifieds for used bikes in the 250-500 cc range, and being disappointed by either the high asking prices or the questionable reliability of the bikes, I started focusing on new ones. Since I was living and working in Cape Town, my job was to find the bikes. My dad would be flying over from California to join me and once he arrived, I would need to have the bikes ready to go. We had arranged our holidays to coincide. My employment contract was just finishing, and my dad had saved up enough vacation time to get two months off work. How did we end up with Bajaj 180cc DTSi bikes made in India? First, they have excellent reviews from riders all around the world, and second, they cost less than R16,000 each, including a locking carrier box mounted on the back. Another road bike with a kick-start in the same price range was the Jialing RD200. Both bikes had solid reputations, and it was just that the RD200 is advertised as a delivery bike that made me take a chance on the Pulsar. (We’re not delivering pizzas to Vic falls!) Hardly anyone we met on our trip had heard of Bajaj motorcycles, even the bikers. We hadn’t either, despite the fact that Bajaj is the fourth largest motorcycle manufacturer in the world, and in 2003 sold more than 100,000 motorcycles in a single month. I had to go on-line and find out what they are. The company, Bajaj Auto has been around since 1945. It manufactures small motorcycles, scooters, and three-wheel vehicles in factories located in west and north India. The Pulsar model was introduced in 2001, and was designed to interest sporty-minded riders who couldn’t put together enough rupees to buy a more powerful machine, like the Indian-built 650cc Royal Enfield. They have since brought out 200cc and are projected to bring out a fuel injected 220cc model. The Pulsar 180cc engine is rated 12.28 kW (16.5 bph) @8000 rpm, and 15.22 Nm @ 6000 rpm. Its advertised fuel consumption rate is 2.4 L/100 km, which is pretty amazing. On our trip we got 3 L/100 km on tarred road, but that was carrying about 50 kg of baggage, a lot of which was sticking out catching the wind. Dts-i stands for ‘Digital Twin Spark Ignition’, because it uses two spark plugs, one on each end of the combustion chamber. The result is a more efficient combustion and better fuel consumption. Where did we go? From Cape Town we took the N7 to the Vioolsdrif border post, then through Windhoek to Otjiwarongo on the B1. From there to Epupa Falls on the Angolan border we passed through Outjo, Otjikoto, Opuwo, and Okangwati. Our next stretch (the so-called Namibian Riviera) runs along the south side of the Cunene through Swartbooisdrif to Ruacana. It’s a fairly rough 4WD route that put the little Bajaj roadbikes to the test. After Ruacana we headed for Oshakati and Ondangwa, then to Tsumeb and Grootfontein. Our next destination was the Okavango River at Rundu, from where we continued through the Caprivi to Katima Mulilo and across the bridge into Zambia. We spent a few days in the Victoria Falls area, crossing into Zimbabwe to view the falls from both sides. The return trip took us through Gaborone on the A1, across the Molopo River into SA at Ramatlabama, south to Kimberley, through the Karoo to Port Elizabeth, and we zigzagged back to Cape Town on the garden route, and Klein Karoo’s R62. How long were we on the road? 40 days and 40 nights. We were obviously in no hurry. We stopped to eat and pulled over to camp whenever we wanted. The single-burner petrol stove my dad brought from California boiled water for coffee, toasted bread, and cooked everything from spaghetti and meatballs, to rice and tinned maasbanker, to potatoes and flame grilled fish-sticks. Our first restaurant meal was at the Bull and Bush in Gaborone, on Day 28, when we made up for lost time over a huge T-bone steak and rack of ribs. About every 3rd or 4th day we stayed in real campgrounds and treated ourselves to hot showers. The rest of the nights were spent in the bush, using the tent we brought with us. It was big enough to fit both bikes, our sleeping bags, and all our stuff safely inside. Since we’re both pretty sound sleepers, we were sometimes reluctant to leave the bikes outside. What were the highlights of the trip? It was the people we met. Every time we stopped we attracted some sort of attention. There was the usual attention that all generous-looking tourists get in southern Africa “Can I have some money?” “Food?” “Want to buy these sunglasses?” “Or this beautiful little hippopotamus?” But many people were just curious. They just wanted to know where we came from and where we were going. We let the kids climb onto the bikes and rev the engine. We handed out cookies, Chappies, magnets and lollipops, and we made many friends along the way. The people were definitely the highlight. We encountered beautiful scenery in many spots along the route. Perhaps the most rewarding were the northern Namibian provinces of Kaokoland and Okavango, particularly Epupa Falls and along the Cunene river. The Namibians are furiously tarring their roads, and many of the gravel routes north of Kamanjab were under construction when we passed through. In the Karoo we received unprecedented hospitality from a local farmer whose river we were camping by. He took us along on an attempt to catch his springboks to move to another farm, asked if we wanted to stay for a braai, and the next day took us to see his friend’s tigers, (yes, tigers). Other Kodak moments included an elephant just 5 unfenced meters from the Kazungula border post, and unbelievable sunsets over the Zambezi, and near Grootfontein. What were the hardest parts? The most uncomfortable stretches had to be the long straight roads in the Northern Cape, southern Namibia, southern Botswana, and the Karoo. It was the hours of teeth-clenching cold. The sun was up there in the sky but there didn’t seem to be any heat coming out of it. We woke up multiple mornings to find the bikes covered in frost, and the camera too cold to operate. On the ‘Road to Ruacana’, along the Cunene, there were very few mosquitoes, but more flies than I could ignore. The occasional 100m stretches of dry river bed were most taxing on the Bajaj. To traverse the beach sand you need to take a few breaks, for the bike and for yourself. When the same was particularly soft and deep, we had to unload the gear and run alongside. There were also some hills that would delight motocross enthusiasts. We had to prepare a plan of attack and charge. Speaking of which, the Bajaj’s roll-bars are a double-edged sword. They prevent damage to the bike itself, which is superb, but our occasional falling over on that cobble stone road was felt mostly in our shins smacking the roll-bars. When the Bajaj fell, I could pick it up, but in cases when one cannot get a good footing or grip, it can require two people. The good thing about choosing southern winter for the trip was that it was the dry season in the north. The only rain we encountered was a midnight thunderstorm in the Karoo and, of course, the last 40 km into Cape Town. How did the bikes work out? Like I said, “We were impressed!” The bikes ran perfectly, not missing a stroke in 7,573 km. The spare spark plugs and inner tube we brought were never unpacked. We adjusted the chains twice and topped up the oil once. That’s it. The engines started without fail, and we never even used the kick-starts. The gears shift beautifully, and their was enough torque in low-gear to get us over any obstacle we encountered. The attractive digital fuel display stays full for a while past fullness, but once it starts to drop it is accurate. Bajaj engineers advise waiting for the 5 second warm-up sequence to finish before starting the bike. If you don’t give it a chance to initialise, the electrical systems might not be prepared, and your rear lights will not turn on. But this is easy to notice, because the digital panel’s orange backlight will not turn on either. It is easily fixed by turning the key off and on, and waiting a few seconds before trying again. My dad brought several American electronic gadgets that used 115 VAC (portable hard drive for copying camera memory chips, electric razor, battery charger, etc.), so he wired up a 180 W inverter to the Bajaj electrical system to convert the 12 VDC to 115 VAC. No problem. But, OK! Obviously, a 180 cc motor is not going to give you a lot of power. Although we could push the bikes into the red at 117 km/h (9000 rpm) if we needed to, we typically cruised at around 90 km/h (7200 rpm). Most of the time that was fine with us. My dad said when the revs started to top out in fifth, he kept checking to see if there wasn’t one more gear. When you’re used to more speed, it’s a natural response. How did the other drivers treat you? In the States, drivers are told to treat motorcycles the same as passenger cars. They are to be given the same space, and the same rights and privileges. On a two-lane road, drivers coming up behind don’t try to pass between you and oncoming trucks, especially when the solid line is in your lane. This was not uncommon, particularly in South Africa. Our impression was that Namibian and Botswana drivers were more courteous. Whenever possible between Port Elizabeth and Cape Town, we got off the N2 and took the slower, more scenic routes where drivers don’t expect you to ride the yellow line if you aren’t doing at least 120 km/h. Last time my dad was in South Africa (21 years ago) he was riding a motorcycle on Hospital Bend in Cape Town and an inebriated driver changed lanes into him, sending him on a 15 meter grind down the tarmac. Fortunately, Groote Schuur was nearby. Nevertheless, he gets nervous when South African drivers get too close. In general though, the other drivers were pretty decent, and quite often waved when they saw us. Would you take another trip like this on Bajaj Pulsars? The Bajaj Pulsars proved to be a reliable and incredibly fuel efficient machines, getting over 500 km’s per tank on a tarred road when cruising at 86 km/h (7000 rpm), weighed down as they were. The Pulsar can handle some fairly treacherous off-road situations (though soft sand is its natural predator). As I said, speed was only a problem on the N2, where there is a yellow-line culture, and people drive like 120 is a suggestion. So ja, sure thing. The only hard part will be deciding the route. English and Afrikaans got us by for the places we went, but brushing up on Portuguese or Swahili might be in order for the next adventure. This article first appeared in BIKE SA