It has come to our attention that moves are afoot to try to close the road past Mrs Fourie's house through Spreeufontein into Anysberg and we urgently need your help to stop it happening.

The 2012 Trans Lesotho MTB Challenge was a big step towards consolidating the Trans Lesotho Trail.  Share the adventure...

Trans Lesotho 2012 Part 1

Trans Lesotho 2012 Part 2

Trans Lesotho 2012 Part 3

Courtesy Trevor Maarschalk

Download the timetable here.

To watch Merrrell Adventure Addicts' youtube take on the 2011 Freedom Challenge click here

“Xolani Brian Mtshali passed away yesterday.”  This was the simple message received by Andrew Barnes and that was passed on to me.  I subsequently established that he died of a heart attack.  His funeral will be in Umlazi on Saturday morning.

...we were adrift on the open veld.

The night that followed was the most terrible of all. Our guide lost his way; we went floundering ankle-deep in mud and water, our poor weakened horses stumbling and slipping at every turn; the rain beat down on us, and the cold was awful. Towards midnight it began to sleet. The grain-bag which I wore froze solid on my body, like a coat of mail, and I believe that if we had not kept moving every one of us would have died. We had known two years of war, but we came nearer to despair that night than I care to remember. Hour after hour we groped our way, with men groaning who had never before uttered a word of complaint, as the cold searched their ill-protected bodies. We lost fourteen men that night, and I do not know whether they survived, but we never again had word of them.

If the freedom challenge is the soul of mountain biking then the allstars and not the superstars, aka race snakes, are the soul of the race.

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Although my race is over I still have some unfinished business. The Freedom Challenge Scholarship Fund is a cause that is very close to my heart. The rural education system in South Africa is in a shocking state.

Earlier this year while enjoying a fun ride through the remote Eastern Cape village of Vuvu I came across a number of children on their way to school. Tagging along behind a group of older children were 2 small kids walking hand in hand. Judging from their size and body language I guessed they were probably in their first year of school. They were barefoot and inadequately dressed against the chilly morning air. They had huge satchels on their backs that had the effect of making them look even more diminutive. As I rode passed I was greeted with enthusiastic waves, broad smiles and cheerful faces. Outwardly I smiled back. Inwardly I was struck with a feeling of deep sadness and have to admit my eyes brimmed with tears. These young people had reached the point in their lives where they were old enough to attend school and enter what is supposed to be a defining part of their lives; an education that could potentially liberate them from the shackles of extreme poverty.

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