Bikes, Brothers, Beaches – the ride from Pomene to Bilene
We can just imagine the excitement when Jbzi2Kozi guru Andy Coetzee suggested to his twin brother Mark that they ride from Pomene to Bilene on the beaches of Mozambique, using fatbikes.
As we were both once officers in the Parachute Battalion, I suggested that we do the ride the hard way: unsupported, military style. That meant no tent, limited food, water and equipment. Fishing rods, roll-up foam mattress, mosquito net, gas stove, dixies (military speak for cooking utensils) and the ubiquitous condensed-milk cans.
I looked at a map of the wonderful coastline of Mozambique and chose Pomene, because it sort of rhymed with Bilene (this is the honest truth). And so on 12 December 2014, Mark and I headed for Mozambique with the Surly fatbikes strapped to the Hilux.
My Surly Moonlander had already been converted (4.8″ tyres, Brooks saddle, pimped holographic spokes, belt drive with 32/18 singlespeed gearing) with the Surly carrier on the rear. I had some panniers made out of waterproof canvas and got an internal frame bag from Grant Usher at Sprocket & Jack.
While the initial planning was going on, I asked Grant if he would be keen on our using one of his bikes to test on an expedition. He gladly accepted our offer and we left with the Green Mamba Pugsley, which featured soft 2-by-10 gearing, 3.8″ tyres and cable disc brakes.
Part of these expeditions is the excitement in the preparation and planning. So it was with great enthusiasm that Mark and I started putting the rest of the equipment together. We decided our biggest limiting factor would be access to fresh water, so we each took a 3-litre CamelBak and two extra bottles in cages bolted to the front rigid forks (Surly has created great attachment places onto the frames for just such applications).
For food, we reckoned we were good enough fishermen to scrounge some protein that way and supplement it with Racefood bars – owners Steve and Paul Walters, and marketing and events director Kate Frost gladly supplied some product (specifically designed for this kind of endurance event) for us to test for them. The nougat-based Racefood Fastbar is the one we all know, and dynamite on the shorter rides of 100km, but the Far Bar has more protein, nuts and carbs in a different ratio. That was what we started with. Rods, Racefood bars, condensed milk. Done.
Obviously we took along a rudimentary first aid kit, a plastic emergency poncho, a change of clothes (board shorts and T-shirt), raincoat and toothbrush (er… I must admit to having a small cache of pills for blood pressure, and for urinary limitations after the age of 50, and some bum cream).
That was it.
Let the journey begin
After joining my son, Thomas, at his graduation party as a chemical engineer, we left at 9pm on 12 December and drove straight through to Inhambane. This took around 18 hours of non-stop-driving, with Mark and I alternating the time behind the wheel. On arriving at the Ressano Garcia border post at 3am, we caused quite a stir with the customs guys on both sides: the fatbikes were unusual, and most locals wanted to know where the engines were for these motorcycles.
At Inhambane, we were accommodated by the owner and managers at Palm Grove Lodge for a day, catching up on our sleep and making arrangements to get across the huge bay to Maxixe. We’d heard about the unique seahorses that inhabit that part of the coastline and organised a boat to take us to see them before dropping us on the opposite side at Linga Linga.
We had an amazing time free diving with these creatures in the bay. I had an underwater camera and two GoPros, so I shot a fair amount while Mark stood on my back, keeping me pinned to the sea floor (it’s difficult to get to the bottom and film the seahorses without a weight belt). The boat then dropped us on the opposite shore of Linga Linga, and we loaded our bikes and set off on the 200km round trip to Pomene and back.
It was a wonderful mix of freedom, exhilaration and excitement – pedalling up the coast looking at pansy shells, checkerboard bonnets and cowries on the tide line, collecting a few for some special people we know. That first night, we slept under a few coconut palms scattered just off the beach, scrounged some coconuts to eat and had leftover pao (Mozambican bread rolls) and Far Bars. Lying under the stars, with a fishing rod and a bicycle, listening to the sea lapping 50m away: could it get any better than this?
Hell, yeah! Imagine doing this with your family, kids or partner. Isn’t this why we go on holiday? To get away from the frenetic pressure of the city and the necessity to work. Here we were, chilling under a palm, swilling condensed milk brew, eating coconuts and relaxing, recounting stories of our other adventures with previous wives and our children.
Rise and shine
Up early the next morning to catch the low tide, we cycled at a leisurely pace, stopping every hour for five minutes (again, a military rule on patrol), having a sip of electrolyte hydration fluid-and half a Far Bar, and taking in the ambience. We had no set destination, so the mindset of how far to go was completely different to when we had a specific destination. We were going to ride as much as we wanted to, then stop, fish, snorkel, film and relax en route.
The Elete electrolyte muti we took with us claims to make fluid uptake in the body more efficient (by up to 40%). We thought this was worth trying. If we would need less water to cover the same distance, that would be a huge boon – fresh water is a challenge here. The verdict: it certainly worked for me. I never once felt dehydrated, although Mark suffered a little more than I did, but maybe that was his age catching up (he is 10 minutes older…)
The reason I decided to start at Pomene was that the prevailing wind is normally northeast (which for non-mariners means that it blows down the coast, meaning we would have the wind at our backs). Yeah, right. So Mark and I battled our way over two days to reach Pomene Lodge, set on the estuary leading into the sea. We spent the next day riding to the estuary and fishing frenetically, to no avail. What would normally take 20-30 minutes to walk from the lodge to the fishing v points and sandbanks took us a handful on the fatbikes. With our rods rigged, we pedalled furiously to the productive- looking water.
We also did some basic maintenance on the bikes and ourselves, and after enjoying a delicious peri peri chicken for dinner, we slept and departed early the next morning for the return journey to Inhambane.
The answer, my friend
During the night, the wind had changed and was now blowing heavy, rain-laden clouds from the south-west, straight into our faces. Man, did I curse. And then laugh. This is what makes the adventures what they are. Not the easy times, but the difficult times, and so, with much bantering about our Jozi2Kozi No Whining credo, we set off into the gusting wind and rain.
We spent a night under a rudimentary palm-frond shelter built by the local fishermen to shield themselves from the sun and rain, which we did that night as it bucketed down. We each had a poncho, but still got soaked. No Whining.
The ghost crabs were the worst disturbers of our sleep, however. Eventually we put up the mozzie nets to keep them off our tasty bodies: they seemed intent on nibbling our flesh and scratching at our equipment. Once the nets were up, they climbed up them and hung like grapes, staring at us with their baleful stalked eyes. We laughed and joked as we took turns shrieking in pain at each doss-breaking nip.
We eventually arrived back at Linga Linga where we met Castelo do Mar Lodge owners Darin and Trevor D’Oliveira riding normal mountain bikes in the thick sand. After a brief chat, and the D’Oliveiras taking our fatbikes out for a short ride, Darin kindly invited us to go and enjoy breakfast at their luxury establishment (they were not going to be back in time to eat). Mark and I needed no prompting and raced off to find the feast, which we wolfed down, much to the delight of the waitresses and other guests.
Hobie-won
After Darin and Trevor returned from their ride, we were still looking at ways of crossing over the huge Inhambane bay to get back to Barra point, about 15km away, with only water between us and it. Trevor suggested we strap the bikes onto each of two Hobie cats and they sail us across. Within 30 minutes we were doing just that, and what a great way to cross the bay. The bikes got a little soaked by the water splashing up over the bows, but no damage was done.
That was what we started with: Rods, Racefood bars, condensed milk. Done.
Darin and Trevor organise rides from Casa do Mar to Massinga Beach Lodge (also owned by Darin) about 2 to 3 hours up the beach. Clients can take a bicycle and ride up with a guide to the lodge, overnight there, and ride back the next day or take the hotel transfer back to Castelo do Mar. That’s the kind of application fatbikes are made for. You aren’t bound by tides too much, as the fat tyres float over even soft sand.
We found the 4.8″ tyres better than the 3.8″, but reckon a 4″ or 4.2″ would be ideal. The tyre pressures were 0.8 to 1 bar, depending on how heavily we were loaded and the state of the beach. We didn’t really fiddle much with the tyre pressures, so further riding is essential to figure out the best ones. The beauty of the ride from Castelo do Mar to Massinga Lodge is that you ride without baggage. Just a few bottles and a snack, and away you go, although taking a fishing rod, mask and snorkel is also highly recommended. Mark and I had snorkelled and fished at numerous reefs along the way.
After the Hobie cats dropped us at Barra point, we spent a few days free diving off the reefs in the area and stayed at Palm Grove Lodge. They offer great water-based activities such as snorkelling, kayaking, fishing and diving.
Our journey south continued with a portage over some rocky points at Tofinho and we were forced inland a little to get around the Tofo peninsula. After that it was back on the beach, and heading for Zavora, about 90km further down the beach.
Routine
A typical day would start at about 4am with a breakfast of condensed brew and a couple of Far Bars. Packing our sleeping gear and fishing rods into the frame bags, Camelbaks and panniers, we would be on our way by 5am, then ride for an hour before stopping for five minutes.
If there was something interesting happening, like fishermen netting, spear fishermen coming ashore or boats launching, we would stop too. I would film pieces of it with the GoPro Hero 4 or stills camera, and take the opportunity to chat to locals about our journey.
We always managed to strike up rudimentary conversations with the people en route. The local fishermen were intrigued as to why we were riding from Pomene, all the way down on the beach. They would laugh and gesticulate at the bikes, feel the fat tyres and shake their heads in awe.
If we chanced upon a lodge close to the shore or some South African tourists launching a boat or playing on the beach, we tried to top up our water levels, although people generally offered us a Coke or the popular red Sparberry Sparletta.
We supplemented our daily lunch and supper diet with fresh coconuts and fish, self-caught or bought from local fishermen, and the odd plate of chips bought at a lodge.
Depending on the tide and temperature, we would scuttle away from either the rain or the blazing sun from 11.30am to 2.30pm, then ride a few more hours until we found a good fishing spot to spend the evening, with suitable shelter close by. Other nights we spent in delightful little self-catering huts, with electricity, a sand floor, and a shower; that’s it.
After eight days of riding, averaging 40-50 km a day, we reached Zavora. This is very comfortable, considering we had to look for water, food and shelter every day, either spending time scavenging for coconuts, fishing for supper or searching for water from locals or lodges.
Mark and I, as identical twins, have an unwritten rule of ensuring that we find humour in all we do. If one person got grumpy about a trivial incident, then they got chirped and verbally harassed until they saw the humour in their folly.
Safe as houses
We had many tourists, from South Africa especially, ask us if we were afraid. Afraid of what? Sleeping outside? Getting wet in the rain? Afraid of locals, afraid of robbers? No! We were not afraid of all those irrational things that terrify many people.
We found the Mozambican rural beach dwellers to be friendly, kind people, interested in what we were doing and always polite. Not once did anyone demand money or ask for a handout. Polite demeanour notwithstanding, however, I also believe that unless something is done to curb the fishing pressure along the surf zone, there won’t be many fish left in a decade from now. What will the numerous tourism lodges use to attract their guests with then?
It is going to take a serious commitment by all conscientious citizens and tourists to not overutilise the fast-disappearing fish resource. When it’s gone, why would you want to ride down a beach on a fatbike? To look at what? No shells, fish or marine life? Only an ever- increasing pile of discarded plastic packaging that floats onto our beaches. I don’t want to look forward to that. Let’s all play our part in making our beaches a more enjoyable and beautiful place to play on.
You might ask why we never got to Bilene… Well, then we would have reached our planned destination! And now our journey continues unfinished. Isn’t that what makes cycling (especially on a fatbike) so interesting – never getting to the end?
One of the positives I took from this ride is the conviction I have in a project that I’m developing: some amazing routes around Kozi Bay, Rocktail Bay and Thonga Beach Lodge, with Tembe Elephant Park thrown in for good measure. Great trails, and absolute fattie heaven.
Contact
For bespoke fatbike tours, around Kozi Bay and further afield, or for an enthusiastic chinwag about all matters fat, contact Andy Coetzee at Feral Fatbike Safaris: 082 547 5554
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