Riding Ou Kaapse Weg

They call the place where we live the “Cape of Storms”. Rightly so, because in the winter when the cold fronts come piling in, sometimes in quick succession, things get pretty rough, and you don’t want to be out in a small fishing boat, I would think, or even a large tanker. This is why God invented gyms – so that when the weather is bad we have somewhere to go and assuage our guilt at overeating, overdrinking, not exercising and getting altogether too fat. And so that we have somewhere to sit and steam and sweat and pretend that this is the same as actually doing a workout and burning calories. That is seriously all they are good for, in my humble opinion – a safety guard for bad weather.

So it was with great pleasure and not a little surprise that I awoke this morning and surveyed the mountains and sky from our bedroom window to discover not a cloud, not a sign of wind, no trace of rain … a peach of a day, as Aiden Thomas was fond of saying on Cape Talk until he got taken off – although I have come across some rotten peaches in my time. Too good for the gym. No toning classes or elliptical trainers for us. No question, we needed to get out the bikes and get on the road.

By 9 we were organised. I suggested to herself that we try Ou Kaapse Weg, something we have not attempted before. She was a little nervous – the traffic, the battery life, the distance … but I didn’t budge and we agreed to give it a go. Padded cycling shorts, padded seat cover, juice bottle, spare jackets, apples, snacks, cell phone and wallet, backpack, luminous green jacket, glasses, helmet … running is a lot simpler…

We made our way through Fish Hoek and Sun Valley to the bottom of Ou Kaapse Weg. Then we started the slow climb – about 300m in 10km. I was a little worried about the traffic but in fact it wasn’t bad – it is a reasonably wide road and there is a fairly wide, yellow-lined verge with good tar, which cyclists can use. In some parts there are some fairly vicious cats’ eyes, but by and large it is a smooth ride with very few driveways or crossroads. As long as you stay in single file and keep well left, most motorists give you space and don’t bother you.

I drive Ou Kaapse maybe once or twice a week, as does herself. We were amazed at how much one misses in a car – a bit like going to the Kruger Park, you drive right past elephants and don’t realise they are there. In the case of Ou Kaapse it is not elephants (at least we didn’t see any), but secluded glades, little waterfalls, hidden copses, lots of Watsonia’s and Erica’s in bloom, porcupine quills – all within a metre or two of the road. And of course some stupendous views – it really was superb.

Herself, being concerned how long her battery would last, was bent on cycling up every hill rather than using the throttle, even if it meant having to stand up in the saddle. Myself, I prefer to keep the throttle open just wide enough that I can feel I am still exercising, but don’t have to stand up or exert myself too much, and can enjoy the sites and sounds. I usually ride at the back and leave herself to set the pace. My ulterior motive is that it gives me a good view of her more curvaceous body parts as she works away at the pedals – a site far more pleasing than even the blooming Watsonia’s!

The descent is short and sharp. 250m odd in about 3km and you are back down at Steenberg Road. It may be one of the steepest tarred slopes in the city – I am not sure. I have seen teams of inline roller-skaters doing their thing on it, so it must be pretty steep. As we got to the first hairpin I shouted to herself to take it easy – I shouldn’t have worried, she has probably seen more femur fractures than I have, and wasn’t lining up for one of her own.

A couple of robots and turns later we were on Boyes Drive heading south. Again, it was just the most stunning experience – uninterrupted views right across False Bay to the distant Hottentots’ Holland mountains and south to Simonstown and beyond, and the massive sandstone rockfaces of Muizenberg and Kalk Bay mountains above us to the right. The sea off Muizenberg was distinctly brownish, with a very sharp demarcation between brown and blue about a kilometre out, in line with St James – I presumed that it was a result of the recent rains and the Sandvlei River flowing out again. I was interested to see that, even after 10 a.m. some of the shaded bends of Boyes Drive, where it ducks in and out of ravines above St James and Kalk Bay, were still wet with dew and distinctly cold. We have always said that much as we love those suburbs we wouldn’t really want to live there, because it seems never to dry out or warm up in winter.

Traffic wise, Steenberg Road and Fish Hoek Main Road were in fact far worse than Ou Kaapse Weg or Boyes Drive, but none of it was too hairy and we were quite soon back on home turf. By the time we got home, Princess Secondborn had got herself out of bed and she and her boyfriend, young Lean Billed, had made a pile of pancakes. We sat down and consumed them with a good quantity of cinnamon sugar, lemon juice and maple syrup, washed down with coffee. Not a bad way to start a Saturday.