The Storm

It was way past black - it was now a gey green with menace.
This was the mother of all storms, complete with lightening, thunder and lots of rain.

Jenny and I had pottered around Graaff-Reinet in the morning, then visited the Valley of Desolation. And it got hotter and hotter. Until we spotted little fluffy clouds collecting on the horison. "This is a thunderstorm" I said to her, as we decided to leave town.

We headed south to Aberdeen, where we admired the leaning church spire. We were ahead of the rapidly gathering clouds, and I was confident that we would reach Willowmore ahead of the storm. The wind pushed us along merrily - but my merriness vanished when I glanced at the fuel guage. I had thought that there was enough to get us through, but the little bars on the guage were dropping faster that I wanted. Until I could not take the tension of calculating "Bars vs Km" any more, and decided to turn back to Aberdeen: 40 km back along the road, into the approaching storm.

We scooted into Aberdeen in time to put in petrol (I had 4 litres left in the tank) and settle at a table at the coffee shop. The heavens opened, and rain and little bits of hail fell. So Jenny and I unpacked our rain gear: We each wear yellow jackets scrounged from roadworkers attire, and black waterproof pants from the hiking shop. And we got back onto the road south to Willowmore.

Only this time the storm was between us and our destination. Amazing black and purple couds. And curtains of rain falling in pockets to the ground. And sheets of water lying on the parched earth. And lightening striking the ground in great zig-zags of brilliance.

And us on a motorcycle.
It was awesome!