Before the Bikes, the Roof of Africa Was a Car Race

Before it became one of the toughest motorcycle races in the world, the Roof of Africa started with a fairly simple idea: take cars across some of the roughest roads in Lesotho and see who makes it.

Most people know the Roof of Africa as a motorcycle race.

More specifically, as the kind of motorcycle race where riders spend several days climbing rocky mountain passes, crossing rivers, dragging bikes up things that barely resemble tracks and generally making the rest of us question what qualifies as a sensible hobby.

But the Roof didn’t start with bikes.

It started with cars.

And once you know a little more about Lesotho, that somehow makes perfect sense.

First, you need to understand Lesotho

Lesotho calls itself the Kingdom in the Sky, and you don’t have to spend very long there to understand why.

The country is almost entirely mountainous. Roads wind through deep valleys, climb over high-altitude passes and disappear around hillsides towards villages that sometimes seem impossibly remote.

It’s a place where the journey can very easily become the reason for going.

For anyone who has ever seen a gravel road disappearing over a mountain and immediately wondered where it leads, Lesotho has a lot to offer.

It also happens to be an excellent place to create an extremely difficult off-road race.

It started with a very bad road

The story of the Roof goes back to the 1960s.

Engineer Bob Phillips had reportedly been involved in building a road through Lesotho and later described it as the “worst road in the world.”

The sensible response to that would probably have been to improve the road.

Instead, the idea emerged to race cars across it.

Phillips approached the Johannesburg Sports Car Club and, in 1967, the first Roof of Africa took place.

There were just 20 competitors.

This was long before modern off-road race cars, sophisticated GPS systems and the enormous support crews we associate with motorsport today.

Competitors had to deal with mountains, mud, rocks, river crossings, unpredictable weather and whatever mechanical problems their cars developed along the way.

It was less about finding the perfect racing line and more about getting yourself and the car to the other side.

Then the motorcycles arrived

Bikes joined the Roof in 1969.

Over time, motorcycles became an increasingly important part of the event, and the terrain lent itself almost perfectly to the kind of extreme riding that the Roof would eventually become famous for.

Some of the route names tell their own story.

Baboons Pass.

Slide Your Ass.

Neither sounds particularly encouraging when you’re standing at the bottom with a motorcycle.

The older Roof events produced plenty of stories about flooded rivers, snow, breakdowns, riders and drivers getting stuck in the mountains and competitors simply trying to keep moving when the conditions turned bad.

You were technically racing other competitors.

But the bigger challenge was usually Lesotho itself.

Eventually, the cars disappeared

The automotive side of the Roof changed as off-road racing changed.

Race cars became faster and more specialised, and the sport developed into disciplines with their own dedicated events and championships.

The Roof went in another direction.

Cars eventually disappeared from the main event, while motorcycles continued.

What remained gradually developed into the hard-enduro race we know today.

And in some ways, motorcycles make perfect sense for the terrain.

A dirt bike can go places even the most capable off-road vehicle simply cannot.

Although, looking at some of the routes the riders tackle, “can go there” and “should go there” are two completely different questions.

What makes the Roof so difficult?

Hard enduro is already a fairly extreme form of motorsport.

Then you add Lesotho.

Riders have to deal with loose rock, steep climbs, narrow mountain tracks, river crossings, altitude, changing weather and several long days on the bike.

And the racing itself is only part of it.

Watch enough Roof footage and you'll see riders pushing bikes, dragging them over rocks, getting stuck halfway up climbs, dropping them, picking them up and trying again.

Sometimes several times.

That’s why simply finishing the Roof carries so much weight.

Speed obviously matters, but so does patience, fitness, mechanical sympathy and knowing how to keep moving when things stop going according to plan.

Knowing the mountains matters

The Roof has attracted some of the biggest names in hard enduro over the years.

Graham Jarvis, Chris Birch, Alfie Cox and Wade Young are just some of the riders closely associated with the event.

But one of the interesting things about the Roof is how important local experience can be.

Knowing the terrain matters.

Knowing which rocks have grip, where a climb changes character and when conserving energy is more important than attacking can make an enormous difference over several days.

It’s one of those events where being fast is important, but understanding where you are racing is just as important.

Lesotho is the venue

That’s also what makes the Roof such an interesting place to visit, even if you have absolutely no intention of entering it.

There isn’t really a traditional racetrack.

The mountains are the track.

During Roof week, towns and roads across Lesotho fill with motorcycles, bakkies, trailers, support crews and spectators.

You'll see bikes strapped into the back of pickups, dusty riders returning from the mountains, groups standing around discussing tyres and routes, and spectators finding spots along the course to watch riders disappear into terrain that looks completely inaccessible from a distance.

And all of it happens against some of the best scenery in Southern Africa.

It’s motorsport woven into the landscape rather than fenced off from it.

That’s probably what makes seeing the Roof in person so different to watching a normal race.

You don’t have to race it to experience it

There’s also an important distinction worth making.

Wanting to go watch the Roof is a great excuse for a Lesotho road trip.

Watching footage and deciding you could probably race it yourself is an entirely different conversation.

Because television and GoPro footage don't always show just how steep these climbs are.

Or how big the rocks are.

Or how exhausting it must be to repeatedly pick up a motorcycle at altitude.

Standing next to one of those routes tends to provide some useful perspective.

And yes, we'd still like to see a car try it

The Roof has long since become a motorcycle event, and that's part of its identity now.

But knowing that the whole thing started with cars makes its history even better.

The early events included off-road cars, buggies, Beetles, Toyotas, Nissans and all sorts of machines attempting to cross Lesotho.

It came from that very old motorsport instinct of looking at difficult terrain and wondering whether a vehicle could make it through.

Which means that even now, when you’re watching someone wrestle a dirt bike up an impossible-looking Lesotho climb, there is still a small part of the petrolhead brain thinking:

A properly built bakkie could probably get up there.

Probably.

Nearly 60 years later, people are still coming back

That might be the best part of the Roof story.

The machinery has changed.

The event has changed.

Cars gave way to motorcycles and what started as an off-road adventure became one of the best-known hard-enduro races in the world.

But the reason people keep returning to Lesotho hasn't changed all that much.

The mountains are still difficult.

The roads are still spectacular.

And there is still something about seeing a route disappear over the next ridge that makes you want to find out what’s on the other side.

Sometimes that’s enough reason to go.

REVVED // For people who get it.