The Rhino Run: A South African Gravel Expedition
The Rhino Run is a 2,750 km (1,708 mile) unsupported solo bike race from Plettenberg Bay, South Africa to Windhoek, Namibia. This immersive bikepacking adventure traverses through some of the harshest landscapes in South Africa and Namibia, from lush coastline forests, to Namibia’s towering dunes. With no aid stations, no markings, back up vehicles, or support, riders return home with epic stories of unwavering grit, perseverance, and resolve to never give up.
The first 740 kms (459 miles) of this ultra-distance race is aptly named The Entrée, a taste of the Western Cape region of South Africa. A shorter adventure and race option, but by no means a small feat. The route includes 34,000+ ft of raw and rugged mountain ranges and testing Karoo (semi-desert) stretches.
Curious, but lacking the experience or desire to solo bivy in the Karoo, an opportunity presented itself. A guided bikepacking expedition from Curve (the race founders) would embark on the first 740 kms (459 miles), setting off just a few days before The Rhino Run departed. Offering a chance to ride the same rugged course, while spending nights in traditional farm stays, game parks, and wineries — this immersive experience was very much my type of adventure and speed. I’d been seeking fulfillment in true adventure riding, but wasn’t ready to race or go solo to this extent, so the expedition was a no brainer. Nervous but excited for my biggest mileage and adventure to date, I signed up. It was official, I was bound for South Africa on a Curve Expedition as a Touring Rhino.
PREPARATION
I had been training for a while for this, though the real focus began to take place 3 months out. By this point I’d already established a strong base and was comfortable enduring 100 mile rides. I’d thrown a few gravel races in to sharpen my handling skills, and weekends were my main opportunity to stack back to back mileage. An unfortunate stretch of rainy weekends meant that a lot of my large mileage blocks were done indoors on Zwift, but nonetheless, fitness was showing and I was feeling good.
I’d opted for a Curve GXR (Kevin) for this adventure. Having previously ridden Curve’s Grovel, I knew I’d love this bike and was excited for a lighter titanium set up. I chose to set this up with a ‘mullet drive chain’, 1x with a large range of gearing in the back to increase the ease of shifting and decrease the chance of mechanicals. I went with SRAM Force Eagle AXS (combination), with a XG 1275 EAGLE 10-52t cassette. I used Curve Dirt Hoop wheels, and on Curve’s very strong recommendation I went wide on tires. I installed tubeless 45mm Pirelli Cimturato’s and upon reflecting on my ride, I am so glad that I listened. These are the widest tires I’ve ever ridden and I’ve been converted from skinnier sizes thanks to the huge deal of comfort they provided. I also intentionally didn’t install a power meter. Adventure riding to me is about enjoyment in simplicity. I wanted the landscapes that would surround me to have my full attention, with no opportunity to be distracted by numbers and performance.
Packing for the trip was light. I took 3 bibs, 3 jerseys, a rain jacket, a normal jacket, a base layer, socks, mechanical gear, a mix of liquid and solid nutrition, a medical kit, chamois cream, hygiene/sanitary products, pjs, and a set of civilian clothes. I’d come to learn that my version of light was far greater than all the experienced riders I’d be joining, and distribution was skewed heavier towards comfort over mechanical gear that I questioned by day 4. Fortunately, unlike the racers, the Touring Rhino’s had the saving grace of mechanical assistance for those that needed it, but the expectation was to be self-sufficient and I absolutely wanted to hold my own. Frankly though, my Kevin was seriously robust. I threw so much at it on this trip, and had many moments where I thought, OK this is it, but it never faltered. The engineering of this bike really is a beauty, designed to be a workhorse by ultra cyclists, it’s a bike that just goes, and goes, and goes. I couldn’t help but feel like the beneficiary of a true labor of love. The more miles I spent with Kev, the more intricate details I discovered, each one ingenious and intentional, crafted from deep rigorously tested experience.
A night before my flight the two riders I’d planned to ride this with unexpectedly had to drop out. This was a bit of a shift mentally for me, but I reminded myself a large part of this adventure was to meet like minded individuals who I’d get to know and be fortunate enough to share raw amazing experiences with.
ARRIVAL & SET UP
We arrived in Stellenbosch a couple of days before the ride start and assembled our bikes. Shortly after we’d roll out to Cape Epic Park for a shakedown ride to make sure our gear was good to go and to see some stunning sights. Home to trails featured in the Cape Epic, this park was breathtaking, a true MTB dream and a great route to sanity check bike setups were functioning as expected.
On return to our base hotel, we ended the night with a gorgeous welcome dinner and briefing in Stellenbosch. The menus were thoughtfully chosen with a choice of traditional and non-traditional South African dishes, and the wine selections had me planning winery visits on return already. I had my first taste of Malva pudding this night and would continue to order it at every opportunity possible. This dinner was a wonderful opportunity for our small group of Touring Rhino’s to get to know one another, as we would be spending the next 7 days and some really challenging experiences together. I was very grateful to get to know this fantastic group over a few drinks and an early night.
BUS TRANSFER FROM STELLENBOSCH TO PLETTENBERG BAY
Animal sightings: Ostrich, elephant, baby goats
Today was all about getting to the start of the expedition. Our bikes were loaded onto the back of a trailer and we drove 7 hours East to Plet. The group enjoyed the sights, making note of roads we’d be riding. They also quickly came to learn of my unique ability to sleep in any environment. I’d like to say I keenly reviewed routes with them, but I slept for a good 6 hours and 45 minutes, dozing in and out of consciousness for the odd animal sighting. I’m really good at sleeping. We arrived at the most stunning hotel, and I shared a huge guesthouse with the other female rider on the tour who would become a great friend through this adventure. Our guesthouse had a massive deck that overlooked the bay. We watched the low fog settle over the Indian Ocean and then headed into town for dinner.
Return to our accommodation was efficient and purposeful. Set up bikes, hydration and snacks for the next day, get an early night. Our expedition leader Gus shared a short ride briefing video filmed during an earlier recce which he’d continue to do each night. This was a really nice touch and brought the gpx file I’d studied to life. He talked through what we’d see on the day, the terrains and roads to expect, any areas to be mindful of, all with a touch of levity and playfulness that I’d come to expect from Curve and adventure riding. It had me real excited for what we were about to ride.
DAY 1: PLET TO KARATARA 109 KM (68 MILES) | 6,391 FT
Animal sightings: Ostrich, family of baboons, snake, millipede, spider the size of your hand, peacock, horses, cows
We started the morning with a massive homemade granola breakfast and hit the road. Rolling out of Plet our we descended down to a fog covered bay. A few miles in we turned off and hit gravel — gorgeous endless, smooth, mostly uphill gravel. There were a few jaw dropping moments climbing in and out of clouds as we ascended mountains. The roads got really fun, what would’ve normally been a dry dusty road, was hard packed red mud thanks to heavy rain, a really fun surface with divots and corrugation from passing trucks. What was most astonishing and not lost on me here was that we were experiencing the product of the most rain South Africa had seen in 100 years. The result was lush green landscapes and blooming flowers in what should’ve been bone dry terrains, truly magnificent. Wet mud soon made for technical descents and filthy kits… yesss gravel bikkke!
Following our biggest climb of the day we descended towards Knysna entering a forest for lunch. Tree canopies offered ample shade and temperatures dropped. A light sprinkling of rain was barely felt with the dense foliage above us. Our wonderful SAG (Support And Gear) driver Uncle Chris told us tales of an elephant that lived in this forest. I never saw him but had my eyes peeled. Uncle Chris was stationed by a picnic bench in the forest with the most incredible lunch awaiting. Chicken sandwiches, Mirinda, biltong, basically all the snacks, and Aunt Marleens homemade energy bars. We would need the energy as we began climbing again immediately as we left the forest. The temperatures began to heat up on a consistent 8% climb that felt endless. Infrequent people watching on some of these remote trails was really inspiring to me. We passed some women several miles from the closest town working out, they were doing circuit training in the heat, just a bunch of ladies supporting one another, getting it done. I’d climbed the route they would’ve had to have walked to get to where they were. It was challenging to say the least.
I found the uphills really achievable, but I also love climbing. The descents were pretty rocky and required focus. I was slow at these, particularly when cornering. While challenging for me, they had me excited, looking forward to improving and getting over my hesitation and fear. My Wahoo died 8 hours in, and as we rolled closer to our accommodation we saw the Google Maps car twice! Somewhere out there, the Touring Rhino’s are Google mapped for life.
Our accommodation for the night was stunning tree top cabins. We rolled our bikes in, hand washed our kit and headed down to dinner. I ate until I could eat no more. Bunny chow, a dish introduced by Indian migrants was on the menu tonight. Fresh hollowed out bread, filled will curry, topped with salsa and chutney. Gus’ words of advice on food eaten today being fuel for day 5 was top of mind for me. I smashed a second helping, ending the night feeling like a stuffed Central Park raccoon.
DAY 2: KATARA TO OUDTSHOORN 112 KM (70 MILES) | 5,022 FT
Animal sightings: Ostrich, peacock, a lot of baboons, giraffe, springbok
Morning dew meant none of my kit dried, in fact, it was wetter than when I set it out to dry. This prompted some early ride conversations where my group of Touring Rhino’s imparted some excellent bikepacking wisdom on me. To dry your kit fast, wrap it in a towel, wring it out in the towel, then stomp on it. If you need to take it a step further, sandwich it between two towels and sleep on it, your body heat will dry it up overnight. I would’ve suffered for many rides without that advice, I was very grateful to learn from this group's deep experience.
The day started with a few nice steady climbs and sightings of troops of baboons as we descended mountains. We’d planned to have lunch at Nelson Mandela’s University but we were making such good time that we arrived an hour early and decided to continue ahead. We stopped for lunch at a coffee shop, strategically before our big climb of the day. I was feeling hungrier today, and despite the big dinner, I could feel a deficit already from not having eaten enough on the bike on Day 1. I took this seriously, and stuffed myself til I could eat no more.
Montague Pass was no joke, it had a climb to get to it and then 1,873 ft more with gradients ranging from 6-14.5 ish% on loose rocky chunky gravel and washed away roads. This was really technical, rideable for the technically skilled, but I knew my skill level and walked a lot. Even walking was challenging, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the heat was testing, but the views made up for it. As I approached the last 400 meters of the climb, Uncle Chris had strategically parked his Land Rover under a tree and lined up a cooler of Cokes for us. I slammed a Coke as my brain slowly processed how incredible his driving skills would’ve been to get up there. As the Coke kicked in, I remounted my bike and climbed the last 400m.
We descended down a fast gloriously smooth gravel road, a stark opposite to what we had just climbed. The descent took us through an Ostrich farm and we rolled through on gravel as huge flocks of Ostriches gathered speed and began to run alongside us. I can’t describe how amazing this was. Surrounded by wildlife amidst wildflowers and lush green scenery, it was a truly remarkable experience on a path that should have been barren.
Soon after we pulled into our accommodation for the night, an unbelievable game lodge. We were greeted by the resident giraffe who was a big fan of being hand fed apples. Dinner was a magnificent Braai (barbecue) under the stars where I tried ostrich, and again, ate until I could eat no more. As night set in, we retired to our luxury tents. Our accommodation was aptly named ‘Chandelier’, so far from any light pollution, dressed by the light of the night sky. I took an outdoor shower staring up at endless stars. The milky way was crystal clear, lit up like celestial clouds, while the moon carried an outline with an eclipse I’d never seen before.
DAY 3: OUDTSHOORN TO VAN WYKSDORP 119KM (74 MILES) | 6,046 FT
Animal sightings: Baboons, ostriches, mongoose, giraffes
Today started rough, day 2 of my period and less than 10 miles in I was frustrated and struggling. I felt massively fatigued, like I had nothing in my legs, typical day 2 symptoms. I knew this was coming and had chatted coping tactics with the women on my cycling team a few weeks back which helped. I kept reminding myself that it would pass, popped some Advil, and kept myself fueled and hydrated. We rode beautiful rolling gravel roads, flanked by thousands of acres of private game reserves, home to many giraffes and ostriches. At 20 miles in I dismounted my bike, sat down on the floor and took a moment to smash a Coke and eat an energy bar. The rush of sugar was needed and I immediately felt better.
From here the descents were gnarly, large loose rocks. Fortunately day 2 period Naveen is drained of energy, and gives zero f’s. All the hesitation I once had was gladly traded for free speed and momentum to get me back over climbs, and I was sending it! Something unlocked, this was probably the best I’ve ever descended in my life. Tearing down passes repeating ‘smooth is fast’ words Gus had left me with the day before as we dissected what was mentally limiting me downhill on one of our many gravel ascent chats.
We soon descended down to a gorge and pulled up for lunch in one of the limited shady spots. From there, we set off on gravel again, chased by a pack of puppies. I’d later learn the Afrikaans term for ‘F Off’ which all South African dogs universally understood. Unfortunately, my exhausted brain also immediately forgot it.
Strategically positioned at the bottom of the infamous Rooiberg Pass was Uncle Chris with a line up of ice cold sodas and snacks. Rooiberg had a reputation for being one of the hardest climbs, rockier and more technical than Montague Pass. Around 10 km long, exposed to high winds, multiple switchbacks, sheer drops, and long gradients topping out at around 11%. There was no point worrying about it because it was going to happen, I was going to get over it one way or another. And so we set off. One of the Touring Rhino’s joked that perhaps the pass had been graded given the recent flooding and rainfall. We both laughed and continued up the initial smooth gravel at the base of the climb. The smooth gravel continued… in fact it never got rocky, she was right! It had been graded!! How unbelievably lucky were we?! We carried that positive thinking through brutal headwinds as we continued to ascend. I felt the full force of the wind on an exposed switchback almost knocking me off my bike. Following that I hugged the steeper inner lines, avoiding easier outer lines that were exposed to sheer drops. The climb took forever, I looked down at my Wahoo’s profile screen many times and it barely looked like I was making a dent. This gave me time to chat to my fellow Rhino’s, learning that the woman I was riding with did DK (Unbound) the for the first time on the same year that I first SAG’d the race, and she’d podiumed for her age group. What a legend. She also shared highly coveted knowledge on how to prevent chafing, something I’d been struggling with for years. I’d gotten better through trial and error, and my Castelli Unlimited gravel bibs offered the most comfort as my consistent go to (also, pockets yay). But after 5+ hours in the saddle, the protection of chamois butter fades. She handed me a sachet of Lantiseptic (blue not pink packaging), a moisture shield and skin protectant. Often used for elderly or bedridden patients, this stuff was GOLD. Applied directly to the skin it stayed all day and was also healing. I couldn’t believe the results, I’ll be placing a bulk order.
The top of the pass was cold, and the descent was seriously rocky and very technical. Thankfully, I had that descending unlock the day before. As the sun began to set I sent it downhill chasing my fellow Touring Rhino’s line. She picked great lines, I was most confident holding her wheel where I could. Her wheel was fast, it earned us both a couple of Strava leaderboard placements.
After a little 15% kicker we arrived at our next accommodation, a beautiful lodge with breathtaking sunset views. Dinner was delicious steak, and conversation was dominated by the Rhino Run race leader. The race had departed that morning, and by midnight approx 18 hrs in, the lead was on track to overtake us. We’d ridden 211 miles and climbed 17.5k ft at this point. Wild.
Our accommodation would undergo load shedding (strategic blackouts) through the night. I prioritized essential devices for charging and set to bed.
DAY 4: VAN WYKSDORP TO SUURBRAAK 130 KM (81 MILES) | 6,046 FT
Animal sightings: King cobra, guineafowl, ostrich, donkey, long tailed monkeys
Today we entered the Karoo, a long semi-desert stretch that lasted just over 50 miles. At this point in the ride those with touring experience were really starting to show. Heads down under the beating sun, they consistently and effortlessly knocked out the miles. The gravel roads were highly corrugated, and you could start to see the Rhino Run race leaders' tracks from where they would’ve overtaken in the night. I followed their lines, they were good lines, and to think they picked those lines in darkness. Smoother lines were found on the edges of the road closer to the bush, and rockier surfaces were found in the middle of the road. For miles all you could hear were our tires passing through the gravel on the edges of the road. That was until we were wildly interupted by a Touring Rhino’s scream. A Cape Cobra was stood up with its wide hood on full display, directly parallel to one of our riders wheels. This highly venomous snake was warming up on the gravel road under the sun as we rolled by. Fortunately these snakes don’t attack unless provoked, and so we calmly continued on. By the time we passed our second snake I was hugging the bumpy middle road jumping rocks like my life depended on it. I know my limits, and snakes are one of them.
Coming out of the Karoo we hit tarmac, I was grateful. We stopped briefly to pump some air into our tires and continued to a bathroom stop where we caught up with one of the race leaders. Currently in 2nd place he looked fresher than me and had managed 6 hours of sleep. We continued on tarmac for another 20 miles and were rewarded with another breathtaking mountain pass, this time on beautifully sealed roads. By lunch time, the top 3 Rhino Run racers had passed us.
We hit gravel again, long corrugated dusty stretches. Infrequently trucks would pass by. I came to learn to pick my line before they passed, their size and speed would kick up dust clouds that would engulf you leaving zero visibility for what felt like a few seconds. We passed another technical climb and many 15% kickers, each one brutal but rewarding with fun fast descents and epic views.
We pushed through a final technical climb to get to our guest house for the night, a gorgeous 18th Century historic farm stay that also served as a trail angel home. Trail angels from what I understood, were the only people allowed to offer any support to racers, by way of small amounts of water or food. Anything more was a step too far on this unsupported race. We stayed in a guest house down a single track road. We arrived during load shedding and in darkness I showered, washed my kit, and prepared my gear for the next day. It was only until I headed down for dinner that I realized each room was filled with candles and matches for our use. The owner of the home shuttled us down to the main house in his open back pick up truck. Ducking for trees in darkness, the ride to the house was so much fun. We arrived at a beautiful candlelit home. Over a home cooked meal we shared stories between us and got to know our generous hosts.
DAY 5: SUURBRAAK TO GREYTON 145 KM (90 MILES) | 6,161 FT
Animal sightings: Horses, springbok
Today started with an angry looking sky. The clouds were dark and we were set to experience some of that South African rain we’d been hearing so much about. We left in drizzle, it was cold, but we thought we’d pass through it, and we did for a bit. By the time we hit gravel rollers I was admitting defeat and put my rain jacket on. Sections that would’ve normally been dusty and dry turned to wet mud. My once white hydration pack was a solid brown, as was my entire back, legs, basically everything.
There was a fair amount of tarmac for the rest of the day and I was grateful for it. Strong headwinds paired with rain had me chasing up climbs to stay warm and bundling up for cold fast descents. The gravel sections that we did hit were pretty smooth and it was easy to pick up solid speed for long stretches. This and relatively less elevation for the day made for a very efficient ride. We continued on gravel rollers in constant rain. I was cold, it was wet, I just wanted to get from A to B. We arrived at our hotel caked in mud. By this point the co-founder of Curve, Ryan (also a good friend), along with my husband, Alex had joined us. Ryan and Gus took our bikes, cleaned them off, lubed our chains, took our kit and had it laundered. I felt like a privileged princess but I was so grateful for them.
We warmed up, and now less remote and entering more populated towns, met at a lovely local restaurant for dinner. The restaurant made me a makeshift hot toddy, my go to for when I feel like I could get sick. I did the usual of eating until I could eat no more.
DAY 6: SUURBRAAK TO STELLENBOSCH 119 KM (73 MILES) | 5,108 FT
Animal sightings: Baboons
I opened our hotel door and the rain had continued through the night. The land was already waterlogged from previous rainfall, so water continued to pool and flood the hotel gardens. The forecast called for more cold, rain, and storms, so we layered up and put on our waterproof outer shells and hit the road. My shoes were sloshing with water from the get go. The rain was biblical.
We soon hit gravel and it was real muddy with some deep sloshy sections. We started to enter terrains that had been hit hard by floods in the previous weeks. Entire roads were washed away, with every layer of foundation visible where water had claimed large sections of tarmac. It really hit home how carefully planned and recced this route was for us and the racers, monitored on a constant basis to keep us safe. The Curve guys really did an exceptional job here, for this to only dawn on me 6 days in, speaks to how much planning and preparation goes into creating such an immersive stress free experience. Today’s route would see us through a detour, finishing a day earlier at the same mileage, but avoiding highly impacted roads.
We hit a tarmac stretch and by this point I was freezing. Worried about getting sick and needing to hit the ground running at work in a couple of days I begrudgingly contemplated getting in the SAG. Ryan saw how cold I was as I slowly climbed, focusing on moving forward as fast as I could manage. At around 40 miles we pulled into a coffee shop with an open fireplace for lunch. We huddled in front of the fire, taking off layers as fast as we could to warm up. The store brought us warm tea and Ryan very kindly handed me a bag of his own laundered kit while listing off what to put on. I headed to the bathroom and Alex followed me with a cup of tea. I quickly realized I was drenched right down to my sports bra, everything was dripping. My waterproof jacket was not SA waterproof. I pulled layers out of Ryan’s bag, a candy shop of kit, a true merino dream. I relayered this time with a final proper waterproof shell, thick gloves, and plastic bags under my socks. Once I’d eaten and dumped my wet kit into a bag to be carried in the SAG, I was feeling much better and good enough to go. I stepped out into the rain and realized that while I was changing, Ryan and Gus had cleaned off and lubed our muddy chains. I nearly shed a tear but I had a ride to finish!
We approached the final major pass of the ride. Ahead of arrival we were warned not to eat on this pass. Baboons inhabited this area and unless prompted with food, would leave you alone. If you piqued a baboon's interest, the directive was to turn around and descend. With a max speed of 30 mph, they wouldn't be able to outrun us on a descent. The road was closed to traffic, and the setting was almost apocalyptic, real Planet of the Apes. Dead silent, just us on the road, engulfed by low clouds, we climbed. As we ascended a wicked tailwind followed behind us, so strong that it felt like a godly hand was cradling you, pushing you up the mountain. I’ve never felt anything like it. Occasionally through the cloud you’d find yourself flanked by baboons, silently observing as they went about their day. The beauty of riding on silent bikes is that you roll through nature without disturbing the environment around you. We were able to get so close to these animals, and they watched curiously, as we watched them. I won't do justice in describing this moment, but it was otherworldly, something that will stay with me forever. As we began to summit, you could see blue sky on the other side. The contrast to what we were riding through was so stark I was certain we were in for a huge rainbow. Much to my surprise there was no rainbow, but the descent was fast! While tarmac, you still needed to remain focused. There were patches of sand and rocks on the road that had been washed away off the mountain face.
On the other side of the pass we were greeted with glorious sun and a major headwind. We delayered and for our final climb of the day were rewarded with the most breathtaking views. Fast windy descents with the most amazing backdrop of lush Stellenbosch wineries and mountains, set in low lying clouds, and guess what… the rainbow I’d been waiting for! Spanning an entire mountain, it brought the biggest smile to my face. You’d never be able to tell we’d just ridden an entire day in biblical rain.
It wasn’t long before we rolled into our base hotel in Stellenbosch and the realization hit. We’d done it! The Touring Rhino’s had made it back to the start. Against the backdrop of the Rhino Run it’s arguably easy to lose perspective of the magnitude of what we’d just done. But what we had achieved was huge. Almost 500 miles, 34,000+ ft, and some of the most testing landscapes and conditions I’d ever experienced. In 6 days. I was immensely proud.
If you made it to the end of this blog post, congratulations. The length of this post makes it an endurance event in its own right. I’ll leave you with one thought that stuck with me throughout this ride. Inscribed on the top of my Curve Walmer gravel bars are the words ‘You Are Here’. To me, this was a constant reminder of being present in the moment. It was that thinking that let me detach and immerse myself entirely in this experience, finding so much fulfillment in the journey. The act of presence is so regularly taken for granted as we consume ourselves with instant gratification and multi-tasking. I hope to carry a renewed purpose and respect for being present into my daily life, finding beauty in the detail I’m present enough to realize.
For those that enjoyed this story and are hungry to hear more epic tales from the Rhino Run, I can’t recommend Don’t Look Back - The Rhino Run Story enough. A beautiful documentary that recounts last years race. I’m on my third time watching it. Inspired and in awe every time.
Finally, a very special thank you to my Touring Rhino friends and Curve for generously sharing their epic photos that have been used throughout this post.
