Day 346 / 111

Date: 24 March 2023
Sleeping location: Patch of grass in village 30.0511S,28.8480E, Lesotho

Distance (km today/total/total Part 2): 62 / 21445 / 6608
Estimated climb (m today/total/total Part 2): 1400 / 200000* / 82000
Rocks: be DAMNED
Day in three words: Maggie’s hiking holiday

I slept badly because my beautiful camp spot was a bit too pitched and I kept sliding down towards my feet. I was finally woken from my on and off dozing at 5 by a lusty "good morning!" outside the tent. Nobody was there when I popped out and I have no idea what they were doing as it was still pitch black. 

True to his word, Patrick came back with his friend Xholan, or maybe Gqolan or Qolan (it was pronounced “#click#olan”) when I was packing up and we had a chat and took some great photos of him and Clickolan with Maggie.

The rest of the track up over the Matebeng Pass was relentless and 95% unrideable. The “dirt” part of much of the dirt road had been washed away and after the night’s rain it was now a very rocky stream. I had to bump Maggie forward from spot to spot over the bigger rocks, hopping from rock to rock to avoid getting my feet wet. On top of this were more fords, mud and grass on the “dirt” parts and steep gradients, and it was hard and slow work. But the views back down the valley were fantastic and in this empty high mountain land it felt like I was the only person in the world. Once I finally reached the top the views in both directions were wonderful. Here was the first person I’d seen in hours, a young shepherd on a horse who seemed baffled by my presence. 

Now I was ready for my big descent, but it wasn’t the easy section I had hoped for. Loose little rocks, loose medium rocks and buried big rocks made most of the track unrideable on this side as well. Progress was agonisingly slow and despite the continuously wonderful views I got increasingly frustrated. Down the bottom there were several bigger fords, each of which required a choice based on the water height, the underwater surface and the amount of stones above the surface - ride it out, hop across the rocks, or shoes off and wade? The last ford was a big one with no obvious solution, but it looked like I could ride across a shallow section, so I steadied myself, took a deep breath and pedalled furiously across 2/3 of the river before hitting a big rock and abruptly stopping dead. One pannier was flung off into the river and I had to put both feet down into the water to avoid falling over sideways. My frustration boiled over and I briefly lost it and threw a couple of rocks at other rocks. This was unfair on the rocks, as they were just doing their usual inanimate thing, and I think it also scared a couple of passing shepherds. I was mentally frazzled and I needed a time out.

I thought I’d got one shortly afterward when the road became “normal” again and I arrived in the village of Sehlabathebe. I had done 17km in six hours that day, 40km in 23hrs since starting the pass the previous day, but it had been wild and epic and breathtaking (in both senses of the word) and I’d loved it, apart from the rocks, they can piss off. I picked up some food from a supermarket and sat outside with my wet shoes off, aiming to eat, decompress and de-stress. This plan failed when the entire school walked past, and of course every one of the kids stopped and stared at me like I was an animal in a zoo. I don’t like this kind of attention; usually I can brush it off or just leave, but I was so badly not in the mood, barefoot and holding a big sandwich that I’d just made, so instead of either of those two options I got very upset and started telling them to fuck off, which of course failed to make them fuck off because it made me way more entertaining. I went and hid in a small room, which seemed to be the supermarket owner’s bedroom, to eat my sandwich, then got on Maggie and rode 500m before stopping to recover the rest of my faculties, some of which had been newly lost in this whole embarrassing escapade.

Back to actually riding, rather than hiking, the road climbed up to the edge of the huge escarpment (that separates Lesotho from South Africa) then ran along it, up and down small hills. On the first climb I passed loads more schoolkids, most of whom stared, followed me and kept saying “sweets, sweets”. They seemed almost like zombies, shuffling around in packs, desperate for refined sugar rather than brains. Once up the climb the sweet zombies disappeared and everything became big empty windswept grassland, with nobody about except road workers - usually lots of locals doing the work and one Chinese man sitting down and looking at his phone. The dirt road was being upgraded, presumably for subsequent tarmaccing, which involved them blasting big chunks out of the hillsides and widening the existing road. Some bits were in good condition but others were still half-done and muddy or rocky. The road ran along a ridgeline with views of big distant green mountains on the right and occasional peeps over the escarpment down into SA on the left, but with the ugly chaos of the road building the scenery was downgraded for the first time in Lesotho to merely excellent. 

Further along the dirt road quality improved and for the first time in almost 72hrs I changed out of the smallest chainring. And then - tarmac! - 60km earlier than expected. There were some steep climbs and descents but it was very fun swooshing round corners again. Nothing good lasts forever though, and it was abruptly back to dirt after 10km. By now I’d come down off the ridgeline and "inland", and a steep but beautiful climb brought me onto a dramatic road hugging the hillside high above the Tsedike river, with green mountains in the background and the sun setting orange behind everything. Here was the stunning Lesotho again. 

Shortly after this I stopped in a village to ask a woman called Selloane about water and a space to camp. She initially seemed reluctant, but then changed heart and showed me up to a patch of grass next to a house (hers, I think) and got a kid to fetch me some water. This was less ideal than wild camping, given the village noise and a few young kids watching me set up camp, but this being Lesotho the views were still fantastic. And the kids were kind of cute, and some of the village noise was live drumming and singing, which was quite nice really. I can’t stay mad at this place.

*This means I have now cycled into space TWICE (see day 193)