‘Twas in days of lore, when I was footloose and fancy-free, and ex-Secretary, new Honourary Member of the Wildbuggers, now known as Beach Buggy Club SA. I had been through a few dates with ladies, Rumours picked them, and Rumours dropped them, as Rumours saw fit. Rumours reckoned, if they can keep up, they can stay. One of the first to go was a cousin of Anton’s (Anton is the President of the Beach Buggy Club SA), a lovely petit young lady, from Bloemfontein, who, Rumours decided, needed to be tested in the art of push starting a buggy in reverse. Of course, le petit presidential cousin was determined not to be shown up by a mere beach buggy. While she was leaning hard into the shove, Rumours started, leaving the fine young lady lying sprawled all over the road, legs akimbo, knickers flashing, dignity utterly destroyed. Next to go was a curly blond ex-army major from the MTN shop in Melkbos. She just ran. Next to be tested was Gillian, the doctor’s daughter… But Rumours was in for a surprise, and so was I.
Rumours was of course going through changes of her own. She was slowly changing from an off-road bug, into the slick, suave street machine she is now, with a lot of motivation from the local government who was closing beaches and off road tracks to everybody except developers in bulldozer under the auspices of protecting the fynbos and the tongues of the white mussel. I had just installed the twin 34mm Weber ICH carbs, and she ran well.
The Wildbuggers had organized an off-road run up Blouberg-hill. HR refers to this hill as a mountain. He would, he’s Welsh… When the settlers arrived in their three skippies, Reiger, Tijger and Titanic, they named it a “berg”. They would, they were Dutch. But I have seen the Drakensberg, the Soutpansberg and the Cederberg, so it’s Blouberg-hill. Anyway, a date had been arranged for me, but she chickened out and Gillian jumped in with Mandy, aka Glitterbug, HR and Angel’s stunning daughter. We set off through the dunes to the hill with the intention of having a skottel breakfast with champagne and orange juice at the summit.
There are at least three routes up this hill, one from the north which is easy, but can only be accessed through private land, one from the east over the old battlefield, where Generaal Jan Willem Janssens battled the British invasion force under Lieutenant General Sir David Baird for control of the Cape for 10 days, 8-18 January 1806. (Folks who have been to Melkbos will recognize street names by now.) This battle resulted in the second British Occupation, and the recognition of the bravery of the Hottentot units under Janssens by Baird, which led to what became the Cape Coloured Corps being retained while the rest of Janssens’ force was disbanded, so laying legitimate claim by this unit to being the oldest unit in the SANDF. The international importance of this event should not be underestimated. It was only months after the Battle of Trafalgar (21/10/1805), and part of the Napoleanic war of 1803-1815. The Netherlands was occupied by the French and the English could ill-afford that their trade route to the east be blocked by a French naval squadron. But I digress…
The third route up from the south is the steepest, I reckon 1 in 3, maybe even 1 in 2 in places, maybe HR will rate some bits 1 in 1! Anyway, it goes UP. It is a narrow track made up of koffie-klip. (Looks like perculated coffee.) While the other Mildbuggers decided on the battlefield route which is never more than 1 in 4, I chose, in a moment of madness, the south route, where not just a few 4X4’s have come to grief. With Gill and little Mandy (voluntarily) on board (she’s got more cajones than a lot of men I know), off we went leaving HR clutching his chest below. Mandy famously quipped “If I die today, please tell my parents I love them.”
No problem on the first bit. Rumours sprinted up, strained giggles all round, until the fuel in the ICHs ran back in the float chambers and Rumours spluttered and died half way. On the brakes I got, but forget it, she started sliding back down with 4 wheels locked up and I started sweating big time. Luckily, her offside rear wheel caught in an erosion ditch and she turned sideways on the track, and there I sat, looking down to the left, and very much up to the right. It was then that I told the girls “Out!” I figured if I flip this bug, I’d rather be one my own. There was really only one way to go. I had to get Rumours started again, and I had to go up. Down was not an option (until later, anyway). Being sideways, the ICHs had filled up again and Rumours came to life, and was she ever pissed off! I figured I had better be on the summit before this happens again, so I floored her, she righted herself on the track and flew up, front wheels in the air (according to the spectators below). I got to the top and it took some time for me to nonchalantly light a cigarette. Of course the story doesn’t quite end there.
While Gill and Mandy were slowly making their way up the track, Gill in high shoes, they were nearly taken out by DaveJ and Sollie in Ratbug, who were not to be outdone, and weren’t. Out of control, they came, unmodified, 1300, Solex carb, no problems like mine. (Take note, Tom!)
Anyway, we had a very nice breakfast, I had a few champagnes and this gave me enough courage to go down the same route, in which Mandy decided not to participate, indicating that the child learns, whereas Gill suffers no such impediments to having fun, so she joined. It was at this time that Gill and I became Ron&Gill, and Rumours had met her match.
....i thort i was going to die 
