Graaff-Reinet
A True Tale About Almost Running Out Of Fuel
The Mother Church In Graaff-Reinet
It was a terrible ride from Cradock to Graaff-Reinet because I had horribly miscalculated the amount of fuel I would need. I’d been riding hard for a while, blissfully unaware that I was burning through my fuel far too quickly, trying to squeeze in a quick visit to Nieu Bethesda before Graaff-Reinet where I would stay the night.
Realising I was running low and that I hadn’t seen a petrol station in ages, I pulled over to ask some merry road workers where the nearest one was. Half of them pointed back, and the other half pointed forward, and they all had a good laugh. I knew it wasn’t ‘back’ because I hadn’t ridden past one. So I asked the cheery blokes, “How far this way?” There was some lively discussion for a moment, and then one of them said, “Same, boss.” That’s when I knew I probably wouldn’t make it.
From then on, it was a case of constant mental arithmetic, calculating the remaining distance against the remaining fuel. I rode for a while at 80 begging the range indicator to give me more miles. It didn’t. It gave me inches. So, I slowed to 60, then to 40, and, eventually, with a deep sigh, I resigned myself to the will of the travel gods, pleaded with the bike, and limped along at idle speed. What can I say? Lovely scenery. I studied every blade of grass.
Then, with miles still to go, the range indicator hit zero. I knew I had some fuel left in the tank because I’ve hit zero before, but it’s always been with a petrol station just around the corner. Now, I was going to find out exactly how far I could travel on zero; a statistic I really didn’t want to learn.
After about a year of travelling on idle, I arrived in Graaff-Reinet very late in the day. I filled up and headed to my B&B. En route, I rode down the main street when suddenly the Mother Church of Graaff-Reinet hoved into view, illuminated in wonderful glory against the deeply dark-blue dusk sky. I stopped the bike right there in the middle of the street, grabbed my phone and took that pic. No cars. No people. No Photoshop. No editing. Just ‘click’.
It was Graaff-Reinet saying, “Hello, you. Glad you made it.”
