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TG Newsletter: TOT HIE' RALLY



Tot Hie' Rally

(21 - 23 October 2022)


Tot Hie’ literally translates to ‘up to here’. However, the slang form of Tot Hie’ means something completely different… It’s so different that only small kids are allowed to say it without getting frowned upon.


Frowning was something often done at this rally, but not nearly quite as often as chuckling.


This rally is a small-by-invite-only rally, and each year we try to draw a mostly incompatible crowd with randomly different drinking consumption levels, riding skills levels, and communication levels. We feed these people copious amounts of liquor, take them riding on some dirt back roads, and let the rest unfold as nature never intended.


Miena made it all the way to the top of Riempie guest farm, before she lay her horse down to rest. These horses don’t like resting, and force needs to be applied. Bystanders are always welcome to join in the vigor.


When we finally had most of the selected invitees in attendance, we opened the gas valve to the liquid donation of BRANNAS ON TAP! Thanx Dax for the support!


On our plates for that evening was load shedding with a side salad of storms. Ettas managed to keep the tjops dry during most of the down pour. And Johanni saved our braaibroodjies with his travel size salt and pepper shakers.


Simon’s Angels were more like sorceresses with the ability to dissolve a sheep into a tot glass. The skaaptjop shooter turned out to be the winner for the evening.


Sometimes the Skinny gets heavy. Legs were broken… the evening continued well into the darkness… and people that should never have walked past one another in a mall, became lifelong friends.


Lovers’ Pew… where boys told girls stories about bravery and adventure, while gazing romantically over the smog covered plains of the mining village below.


A BabbelasBreakfastBox was handed out to all the Friday night survivors. Hot, strong, dark coffee flowed out of the kitchen much like burnt toast does not flow off a plate.


We left that morning with some people more nervous than others. The concerns raised involved, rocks… sand… mud… water crossings… beer… ice for brannas… gold tequila on ice… and who would be the first to discover the meaning of life.


Even though most of us know that life has got no meaning and the most philosophical lesson to be learned is that pineapple goes on pizza.


At the Riempie gate is a patch of sand. No more than a cup and a half. Just enough to tighten some of those cheeks.


Less than 1km further we have a road-rescue mission where blocks of norite covers the eroded path. You might pick a direction, but norite notoriously likes West and as you will notice hence forth… you rarely face west when you enter a field of norite.


The t-shirt said it all. The face was superfluous.


On the outskirts of Marikana is a drag strip. Nobody intended it to be a drag strip, but when you have a strip of dirt and 17 motorcycles it would be a disappointment if revs do not get maxed.


Donovan, “I’m winning! I’m winning! He’s winning! He’s winning! His cheating! ôhôh… COW!!!”


Big trucks blocking small roads. Rush hour congestion of the dusty kind. Our own leaning tower of Eskom.


When you are THAT good that you avoided the car you intended to avoid, but couldn’t avoid because their sidestep and your twostep both stepped left.


Maretlwane dam! A name you can’t say cause it’s a place you shouldn’t be.


Juan needed fresh undies like the pope needs sinners. He just started riding adventure and already he had to keep up with people that can avoid unavoidable bakkies. Though he is adamant to never, ever, ever drop his sparkly new Africa Twin.


Fresh undies were out of stock, but we made up for it like only the Tank Girls can.


Tank Girls rule 368:


You are not allowed to take any of the lines the riders before you took.


“I’ll take far left, then you go slight off centre. There might still be a way over the bridge 4° to the right. Who’s got narrow wheels?!?”


Why is it called DUAL SPORT? Cause there’s TWO, you nienkompoops!


We had to leave two brothers behind to fix a puncture. PhokkenConrad and Andrew got into an altercation with a bush of thorns. The bushes north of the mountains are a bunch of pricks!


Along the way, Skinny dropped a few pins for the guys left behind.


Donovan and Juan decided to exchange bikes. Juan called it trust – we called it delusion…


At Spins Corner, the two Heroes went head to head, competing for the badge in optimum fuel/oil mix ratio.


One small water crossing for a DR. One giant Red Sea parting for a 1200!


Skinny and Vicky quickly jumped over the small stream to calm the fizzy tablets behind us, showing them that all is possible. But Ross ran into a boulder, promptly looked down and planted herself on her selected spot. Much like a mielie…


From the other side of the puddle, you could hear a faint hymn. At first you might have thought it was Psalm 23, but if you listened carefully you could just recognize the words…


“More gas! More gas! More gas!”


The first time in 24hrs that we saw a smile on this man’s face!!!


Our mobile shabeen / photographer / spaza shop / legend transporter!


We call it our swembad. Discovering this wet spot, was like finding water on Mars. You never really expected to find it, but the meme on FaceBooks says;


If you believe it, your mind will dream up the most preposterous nonsense


Faith… the new flavoured tequila!


We all laugh when we see a guy riding his imaginary motorcycle, but when you tell him ‘moenie’ – the laughing dwindles.


Sometimes you can walk on water. Only for a split second, but it’s always, always there!


When the Voice of Reason carries a camera…


Responsible:


“Moral, legal or mental accountability”


Having a sense of responsibility would mean you foresee a future for yourself. But if you make no provision for growing older, you will have no such trouble… Wheelie till the bleed becomes!


Heading home, as thunder shocked the skyline.


Sometimes the assembly line uses the wrong nuts…


Saturday evening and it was time for the k@k praat to begin…


The Real Bosveld Pub had a mobile honesty bar, run by Geneva Convention. Her humanitarian treatment to our distressed livers aided in the moral upliftment of the gathering.


Food for the evening was home made roosterkoek with pulled pork / butter chicken!


The Riempie sun gets tired very quickly. In the whole know galaxy, Sol is the only sun that has offered it’s services to burn rays into the west facing curtains of a society that has not learned about the benefit of blinds. This is an arduous task, as most other hydrogen balls will tell you.




Sunday morn’ and the tourists were kicked out of their bunks.


There was a quick top-up of juices before we had to hurry-hurry to our first stop at Ilhanti Lodge for breakfast. The MotoGP started at 9am and nobody wanted cold eggs!


Excitedly we flocked to the front of the screen, but the Topless French Puta seemed a bit more musclelier than we expected??? Wrong channel…


The coffee was strong, the flapjacks were syrupy, the eggs were scrambled and the Pecco took the flag!


Stress and nervous tension causes serious health problems within society these days. As not to exacerbate these issues, the following facts will be revealed in advance.


The pass lying ahead of us was indeed the magnificent Breedtsnek.


The crossing over this pass by 17 inconsistently capable motorcyclists resulted in…


One scuffed handguard


The successful wobble of three bikes over the first step


The fire of a gun


…and one bent brake lever


In order that some sense of mystery should still be preserved, no revelation will yet be made concerning whose handguard got scuffed.


This fact will be kept in suspense since it is of no significant health hazard whatsoever.


A quick stop at the abandoned house!



This house has been left to decay for so long that even the ghosts have had time to have a small family and have seen their small ghost children grow up to be well adjusted youth ghosts, that have flown off to the big cities to get a Boochelor degree in the paranormal.


Jack, I’m flying!


Two bikes dropping in succession. So, Vince runs to assist the lady first… as one does.


But… the other bike was the never-to-be-dropped Africa Twin entrusted to one experienced ‘friend’!


Vince was sternly reprimanded for not assisting with the Twin first. One must ensure one’s entrusted integrity by faking an uneventful climb to the top of Breedtsnek. And this cannot be achieved by a bike laying horizontally across the road.


The rest of the lecture entailed ‘how to hide scuff marks on a handguard’.


#%$& Dude, just %&# keep left, keep your &@$# feet on the pegs and keep your &%#% eyes on the horizon!


Juan decided to rather apply the walk-a-dog method. Rarely has a bike ever felt safer!


Bladdy hell! And so every skerminkel made it to the top. Some never wanted to be at the top, just like all tomatoes do not want to be red. But we’ve noticed that our friends consistently give in to the Tank Girls power of persuasion.


The loose rocky southern side of the neck took fairly quickly to descend with no extreme fatalities (or not that we know of).


Last stop was at the Old Post Pub. Sharon and Debbie baked us traditional English pies and rounded off our weekend with a last skop.


Tot Hie’ is not a rally… that you can find

It’s lost in the ditches of each one’s mind

A farm on high, peeking at the sun

We gathered around to cement our fun


Amidst peacocks and paddas we braaied a tjoppie

Nothing quite like a midnight doppie

Hans got a biffday pumpkin cake

Boerie got a roll and rubs from his new mates


Quarry jumping for the mightily brave,

Chocolate brownies to die for, nothing left to save!

Maak jouself rustig vir n rukkie

maar gee my net asb n drippie


Made haste before the storm

Regroup for a party that’s deffo not the norm

Motogp with a bad ass Binder,

Flap jacks and muffins torn asunder


Ronnie Price’s lost city in the kloof,

the roar of bikes on the dilapidated roof

Views for days meet adventurous eyes

Tread carefully now to avoid your demise


The ‘nek’ awaits the posse of pegs

Or was it brunning along with lanky legs?

The crunchy rocks helped redesign a brake pedal

We all stopped to admire the curve of the metal


Pies at the Old Post Pub was next on the ride

as we slid our way down the other side.

Back again in a race to the finish

The pink pig did his best to win it!


-Christy Filen-


Not everybody is made to withstand the might of the Tot Hie’.


Frikkie was found laying next to the road. Miena resuscitated him and saved our one-horned-pig from running towards the rainbow light. We asked him to live just a little bit more. There was still an adventure or two to catch!


Sponsored by Daniel Mulder Distributors (DMD)


Forma Boots (www.formaboots.com)

Caberg Helmets (www.caberg.it)

Oxford Products (www.oxfordproducts.com)


The Real Bosveld Pub and Grill (https://www.facebook.com/bosveldPandG)

Ilhanti Lodge (ilhanti@gwisa.com)

Brannas Draught (http://brannas.co.za/)

Hannelie van Schalkwyk (Photographer)



CHIKITA PRODUCTIONS PRESENT:

Why don’t you go and subscribe to our YouTube channel? And sommer click on the little bell as well, to remind you when we’ve loaded a new vid.


YouTube: Skinny van Schalkwyk


BUT HERE IT IS!!!


Tot Hie' rally... you ride tot hier. Then the fun starts! Riding around the mountain, falling, drinking, riding through the water, falling, drinking, riding over the mountain, falling, drinking!


Video produced by Jolandi Mentz (18 October 2022)



ANTIPANTS - ANTIPOACHING!

22 January 2023!


Save the date and keep an eye on our social media pages for more info. We’ll update the times, start venue, and all the other stuff you never knew you wanted to know. Scrub those undies – no skid-marks this year…



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Tot later!

Skinny & Chikita

YouTube: Skinny van Schalkwyk

Instagram: @skinnyvanschalkwyk

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