www.flickr.com

Go to my Rim of Africa photo album

A Google Earth track of the trail, almost every step captured on a Garmin Foretrex 101, will follow shortly, along with a short account – once I have thought of something profound to write…

www.flickr.com

Go to the hikers’ photo pool on Flickr

Related posts:

1. Rim of Africa
2. Rim of Africa Google Earth track
3. Crystal Pools – Cederberg

The vision of the Rim of Africa is to create a mega-distance trail on a par with the best the world has to offer. Mega-distance trails in Europe and the USA play an important role in giving access to time in wilderness while stimulating a walking culture.

The Rim of Africa stretches from the greater Cederberg wilderness area on the Cape’s West Coast to the Outeniqua Mountains in the Garden Route, traversing more than 650km of mountain paths. The route takes in the Cederberg, Skurweberg, Hexrivier, Keeromberg, Langeberg and the Outeniqua representing a flagship hiking product of international significance, attracting hikers from around the world. There is potential to link the Rim of Africa to the Outeniqua Trail and on to the Eden to Addo Hike for Biodiversity creating an extended trail of 1200km ending at Addo Elephant National Park in the Eastern Cape.

I’m looking forward to getting “lost” in the wilderness, communing with Nature.

Related posts:

1. Rim of Africa Google Earth track
2. Rim of Africa photos
3. Groot Winterhoek wilderness

Sweni trails camp gate

The Sweni is one of the most sought-after wilderness trails in Kruger, primarily because of the likelihood of running into the Sweni lions. According to James, the trails ranger, Sweni has the highest concentration of lion per sq km in Africa (i.e. the world). So when I got the chance to book all 8 beds, I took it – and took my whole family and some of my in-laws. FAQ

We renewed acquaintances with old trail friends: James Steyn (with whom we walked the Napi), Kallie Ubisi (formerly of Wolhuter), and James Mathebula (who cooked on Wolhuter). The next morning we tried to track the lions we had been hearing since 3am. We got very close, hearing the calls and growls of at least 2 groups, to left and right, as we snaked into the misty savannah. But the mist defeated us as we followed their fresh spoor, stretching away from us to the south. Snacks on Bravo Koppie.

The ultimate afternoon walk! A pride of lions finishing off the last of last night’s giraffe kill, took flight as we approached on foot. The females are massive cats. Vultures and about 8 jackals descended on the skeleton, picking it clean in efficient silence. Behind us about 8 hyaena loped tentatively closer, sniffing the breeze. They would approach the carcass passing within metres of us and ignoring us as if we weren’t

Sweni walk at sunrise in the mist

there, then would back off as they smelled the pride disappearing rapidly upwind. Then they finally moved in, each one claiming a portion of skeleton: a backbone here, a femur there; two spent time dismantling the ribcage. All this in absolute silence while we watched from about 75 m away. Vultures, jackals and hyaena operating as a team of sanitation workers – no fuss, no wasted effort. “This is what makes Sweni special”, whispered James, referring to the rare opportunity to watch lions on a kill while on foot. As we left scene the riverine bush was alive with nervous wildlife.

On the Louis Trichardt road one evening a young female elephant charged us as we drove to the cliffs for sundowners. Accompanied by two other young females and a baby, she kept coming as we managed to get the vehicle past her. The others and the baby joined in, chasing us up the road with much trumpeting and bravado. The funny part was the baby’s eventual enthusiastic participation in the rout, trunk and tail extended for and aft, and its shrill, adolescent trumpeting. But that mommy elly meant business….

Related posts:

1. Ralph’s Wilderness Trail FAQ
2. Metsi-Metsi Wilderness Trail
3. Napi Wilderness Trail

Metsi-Metsi trails camp – it apparently means “water water” in Sotho – is located 6 km from the Mozambique border in rhyolite bushveld on the eastern aspect of N’wamuriwa mountain.

Day 1: Led by Rudi & Abel, the rangers, this day started with a

sunset at Silolweni

leisurely 8km ramble across the ridges south-east of the camp. The weather was pleasantly warm with the touch of a cool breeze. We enjoyed breakfast on the N’waswitsontso River. Our path crossed a loping herd of giraffe, including three juveniles, at fairly close range. Our group, all women except for me and the rangers, is easy-going and good company. No testosterone in sight – “rustig”. A quaint Metsi-Metsi initiation ritual involved spitting impala dung pellets across a line drawn in the sand by the ranger. If someone had suggested that I would put dung of any description in my mouth, I would have called them “bossies” – but I did…

Ernest, the camp cook, had prepared an excellent lunch back in camp – scrambled eggs, toast, baked beans, sweet corn, bacon, mashed potato. Of course with few males in camp there’s plenty to go around.
That afternoon the walk on western side of N’wamuriwa along the Nwaswitsontso River was memorable. We played hide-and-seek in the riverbed with herds of kudu ewes, giraffe and two bull elephants. Sundowners at Silolweni dam followed, where we were serenaded by pods of hippo, about 15 of whom were within 20m of us, and whose supper had been delayed by our presence.

Day 2: What a morning walk! We drove north to the northern reaches of the Metsi-Metsi near Lindinda Dam, and set off into a breezy north-easter. First we happened upon a breeding herd of elephant, then a lone white rhino cow who was aware of our presence but was caught between curiosity and fear,

Metsi-Metsi hut

and then – a first for me – a black rhino! We got to within 100m of it and took care to stay downwind. It was unaware of us, which is just as well as these animals don’t keep their distance once they’ve rumbled you.

Thinking that we had been especially blessed, we then spotted that rarest of cats, a cheetah, about 150m off to our left in the shade of a tree. It got to its feet and strolled parallel to our path and melted into the bush. Seeing cheetah (there are only about 200 in the 19000ha of Kruger) is rare, but meeting one while on foot is truly unusual. This event took place within tens of metres of the Wolhuter memorial, where the legendary Harry Wolhuter survived a lion attack, killing it with his knife while it was dragging him off.

One tends to focus on the big mammals, but in between we had been introduced to bag-worm nests, the uses of the magic gwarri tree, lizard eggs, the spongy praying mantis nest, the climate control and fungus gardens of the termite mound, and

Evening walk at Orpen dam

much more. My fifth wilderness trail has only served to confirm that these trails are the only way to truly experience the bush.

Wilderness Trail FAQ

Related posts:

1. Sweni Wilderness Trail
2. Ralph’s Wilderness Trail FAQ
3. Wolhuter Wilderness Trail

Well, not really. It was more like paradise. A perfect autumn weekend in the Cape mountains above Tulbagh and Porterville.Big Ron and I followed the Groot Kliphuis River down to De Tronk, our mission to experience “Die Hel”. We had wanted to do this hike for years, but it was almost invariably fully booked. This trip was also to be a farewell to our hiking buddy, Peter, who is leaving for the UK, but he was in too much of a spin to sacrifice the weekend to pleasure….

What is “Die Hel” ? It’s a deep, dark pool in the Groot Kliphuis River gorge. They say nobody knows how deep. It certainly is a spiritual place. The San adorned a nearby rock face with their rock paintings, but I doubt that they ever lived down here. It must have rather held some religious significance for them.

After the recent heavy rains, we had packed and prepared for rain and bitter cold. The place isn’t known as Groot Winterhoek for nothing. But with prescient timing we ventured into this beautiful wilderness on a balmy berg wind. It was warm enough to  try out almost every pristine pool in the rivers. How many places in the world can one still lie in a river and drink the water ? As we often tell each other: “another lousy day in Africa”. You’re going to miss the place, Peter….

Related posts:

1. Boosmansbos Wilderness Trail
2. Rim of Africa photos
3. Cederberg – Wuppertal to Algeria

Once again Marion and I were privileged to participate in a wilderness trail (FAQ), this time the Napi Trail midway between Pretoriuskop and Skukuza. Napi was the newest of Kruger’s seven wilderness trails and its location at the confluence of the Napi and Mbiyamiti rivers was surely one of the most spectacular of all trails camps (unfortunately the camp was recently destroyed by fire). Perched high up on the bank of the Napi under rich riverine forest, the camp commanded wonderful views of the rivers. Our hut clung precariously, it seemed, to the sand cliff that had been undermined by last year’s floods. Steady rain on our last night in camp made the Napi gurgle far below our veranda, but the hut anchors were secure.

The undulating woodlands were green and luxuriant after the summer rains, and the grass long, making game sightings difficult. But as any trail junky will tell you, game viewing is not the purpose of the wilderness trail – it’s only a bonus. Just prior to the trail we had a stayed at a game lodge in a neighbouring reserve where seeing the Big Five is what is promised, and is consequently, what the guests have come to expect. And although we had wonderful leopard and lion sightings at the game lodge, it was somehow less satisfying than walking in wild bushveld, seeing fresh lion tracks, hearing them in the distance, knowing that they were probably watching us from the cover of long grass. On foot one confronts your own insignificance, your own vulnerability.

Besides the many white rhino we saw, we did see one significant antelope: the Liechtenstein’s hartebeest. Locally extinct for decades, some were recently re-introduced from Malawi. This one was limping and separated from the herd, his days numbered.

Once again I had the opportunity to polish my knowledge of bushveld trees, add the buffalo thorn to the list as well as the Zulu story about it being “the tree of life”, learn about sodic sites and how they form, etc., thanks to the knowledge of our trails rangers.

Long may Kruger’s wilderness trails renew our bonds with Nature.

(Note: this camp has since burnt down and is located elsewhere now)

Related posts:

1. Nyalaland Wilderness Trail
2. Sweni Wilderness Trail
3. Machampane Wilderness Trail

What is a “wilderness trail?
The “wilderness trail” is a concept unique to Africa in that it has evolved to imply a walk in the company of a game ranger or conservation officer, usually armed, through big game country. Aspects of the ecology of the area, environmental management and ethics are also explained and the emphasis is often on environmental education.

Kruger National Park has seven such trails, comprising seven trails camps each located in large wilderness areas (60000 ha plus), remote from cars, roads, camps and people. Each camp accommodates 8 guests who spend 3 nights at the camps. The camps are staffed by the trails ranger, the assistant (or “second rifle”) and a camp cook. A trail involves two days of walking. Kruger’s trails are: Sweni, Olifants, Wolhuter, Bushmans, Nyalaland, Napi and Metsi-Metsi.

Wilderness Trails in this form originated at Imfolozi Game Reserve, I believe.

Are wilderness trails dangerous?
All wilderness trails are potentially dangerous because you are on foot with wild animals. However, animals are usually more scared of humans and are only dangerous when cornered or surprised, or when protecting young. The trails rangers are extremely safety-conscious and will ensure that you are not put into dangerous situations. They are very cautious and always err on the side of safety. It is important to obey the rangers unquestioningly. I would say that the trails are exciting, rather than dangerous.

Is the walking difficult or strenuous?
The walks are not difficult. They are largely over flat ground and follow game paths. They are undertaken in the early morning and late afternoon, when it is cooler. The only discomfort

Napi hut, but at the old camp that burnt down

will be the heat, depending on the time of year. The rangers will pace the walks to suit the group, and if you find it hard, discuss it with the rangers. On a walk you could walk anything up to 10km, but it depends on conditions and the group. The emphasis is not on “hiking” as such, but rather on experiencing, feeling, hearing, and smelling the bush, while learning about the ecology.

Will I see the “Big 5″?
No!! Unless you’re very lucky. If you participate in a trail with the aim of seeing the Big 5 up close you are guaranteed to be disappointed. Get the Big 5, especially the cats, out of your system by going on game drives or lodge safaris before you tackle a trail. Then you can relax and enjoy the experience: feeling, hearing, and smelling the bush, while learning about the ecosystem; facing up to your own insignificance; being in the food chain. I promise that it can be one of the great experiences of a lifetime if you allow it to be.

What must I bring?
I would suggest some essentials (for summer conditions):

• a large wide-brimmed sunhat
• sun block
• bush-coloured clothes that breathe well, but keep the sun off
• at least two waterbottles each (drink a lot on the walks)
• small binoculars
• insect repellent
• anti-insect mats or coils
• reliable torches or headlamps, with spare batteries
• comfortable walking shoes or boots
• 3-4 changes of walking socks
• a soft bag – there isn’t much packing space in the huts.

The camps have a communal fridge, so take beers, wine and drinks for the evenings.

What about malaria?
Ensuring that you are not bitten is vital. The danger times are dusk and dawn, so keep skin covered especially at these times: long light trousers, socks, long sleeves, etc. Make sure that you have insect repellent and that you spray it on exposed skin. I would suggest that you also buy anti-insect coils or mats that burn through the night (note: there’s no electricity!). One should also take anti-malaria prophylactics before travel – many of us don’t, but get advice from a doctor. (also visit www.malaria.org)

How difficult is it to get a booking?
Very. The trails run at high occupancy and are a well-kept secret amongst those in the know. You may have to book up to a year in advance. If at first you don’t succeed…. Try here for a booking – ecoAfrica has been known to succeed.

What’s the weather like?
In summer, the days are very hot, and the nights will be warm too. Expect afternoon thundershowers. Of course, this is mosquito season too, so while there is the temptation to wear as little as possible in the evenings, you should rather cover up. Winters are dry and the days are pleasantly warm, while the nights will be nippy. If you’re not used to Africa’s heat, June to September is the time to visit. Game viewing is also better in winter because there’s less foliage, shorter grass and the game tend to converge on waterholes and rivers.

What are the trails camps like?
The camps are rustic and basic and the fence is not animal-proof (rather to keep the people in than the animals out, as the trails ranger will tell you), but you will seldom find animals visiting an area that smells of humans.

Each camp has 4 huts, each with two beds. Space is limited so leave the large

Sweni lapa

luggage at home or elsewhere. The huts do have doors, as well as mesh-covered windows and mosquito nets hang above the beds. The huts are also raised off the ground, so you should not have problems with mice or insects or snakes. Bedding is provided, and you won’t even be required to make your bed (the camp cook will take care of that)!

The toilets (flush toilets) and showers (gas-heated) are separate from the huts and are communal, and there is no electricity, but lots of paraffin lanterns.

Camp life revolves around the lapa – where a boiling kettle, tea and coffee are always available – and the fire-pit. Meals are served at the lapa twice-a-day: a brunch after return from the morning walk, and dinner under the stars. The cooking is basic, but filling and tasty – good, simple bush cuisine.

What is a typical day’s routine?
Everything but routine. But it goes more or less like this:

• you’ll be woken up by the camp cook before sunrise.
• over coffee and rusks the trails ranger will give a safety briefing
• leave camp on the morning walk at sunrise
• stop in the bush for a light breakfast (snacks, fruit, dried fruit, nuts, juice, meats), usually on a hill
• return to camp in the late morning for brunch
• siesta until the late afternoon (lots of time to read, wander around the camp, watch birds, sleep, etc.)
• leave on a walk until sunset, often stopping at some viewpoint to watch the African sun die
• return for a shower and supper around the campfire (there usually are interesting people on such trails)
• listen to the nocturnal sounds and sleep.

Literally walking in the Mlambane

Related posts:

1. Napi Wilderness Trail
2. Metsi-Metsi Wilderness Trail
3. Sweni Wilderness Trail

The “wilderness trail” is a concept unique to Africa in that it has evolved to imply a walk in the company of a game ranger or conservation officer, usually armed, through big game country. Aspects of the ecology of the area, environmental management and ethics are also explained and the emphasis is often on environmental education. FAQ

The Wolhuter Wilderness Trail is the oldest in the park, established in 1978 in the area frequented by the legendary rangers, Harry and Henry Wolhuter. The trail camp lies about 10 km north-west of Berg-en-dal restcamp, in the transition zone between the mixed bushwillow woodlands and the Malelane mountain bushveld – white rhino country.  And did we bump into a few of them…

Jan and San rock art

On the rough drive to the camp on the Wednesday evening, we spotted lion, an elephant bull in musth and two white rhino, all at very close range. It seems that because no humans had been on these roads since the rains and floods, the animals had reclaimed the area. Ours was the only trail running in the park, and the first since the floods, thanks to the passion and determination of our trail ranger, Jan Erasmus. He was worried because heavy cloud predominated, and the last group had to be lifted out by helicopter as the waters flowed through the camp.  The bosses were going to have none of that again.

Thursday 2 March
Usually the morning walk commences before sunrise, but drizzle and distant thunder delayed our departure. The grass was long and wet and the bush more luxuriant than I had ever seen it. We wound up a granite koppie to perch on an outcrop for a light breakfast. From there the panorama of the bushveld and granite hills spread out below us. In the distance we spotted a herd of buffalo, black shapes amongst the trees of riverine forest. Later we would be surprised at all the animals we couldn’t spot from there, despite powerful binoculars. This area has one leopard to every 3 square km’s, the highest concentration in the park. Needless to say, we never saw one.

Marion and the hut

On the way down Jan showed us a cave adorned with clear San rock paintings, said to be two millennia old. We then set off to the north-east in order to intercept the buffalo. As we approached a stream, we heard a white rhino greeting behind us. Jan did the recce and then took us two-by-two to view a large, dominant bull wallowing in a pan, some 50m distant. Great care was taken about this, because their bad eyesight, but sharp hearing and sense of smell, makes them curious and bedonderd.

Wading the stream we blundered into a menagerie of zebra, blue wildebeest and impala, plus one more rhino, who trundled off at our approach. Jan was testing the wind by squirting ash from a small bottle, while Kally Ubisi, his Shangaan assistant scanned the bush with his incomparable vision. Later it became clear, however, that sign, smell, sound and interpretation of animal behaviour – and the hairs on the back of one’s neck I reckon – are more useful senses to the rangers – you have to become one with the bush.

The rangers were impressive, and their professionalism was best illustrated when we exited a stream, and Jan and Kally both suddenly swung their rifles to the right, and cocked, in perfect sync and in one fluid motion. Most of us hadn’t even heard the rustle of undergrowth, but it was a buffalo dagga bull, luckily crossing in the other direction. Exciting times.

But there was so much else to learn about the flora, the micro-fauna such as spiders and frogs, etc., etc., but my poor engineer’s brain couldn’t take it all in, let alone remember. Jan’s scientific and ecological knowledge is impressive to a layperson like me. Additionally, Sean and Carol, two other members of the group, are undergoing field guide training in their spare time, so they added to the mix. Carol’ s particular interest is grasses, Sean’s birds.  “Wonderful!” enthused Elske, our German fellow traveller, on return to camp. It was.

Walking on the Mlambane

After James (Mathebula), the cook’s, tasty brunch and the usual siesta in the humid heat, we set out on a mission to stalk that herd of buffalo. We could hear them to our right, but our path was blocked by a phalanx of white rhino, it seemed. They appeared to be everywhere. Being downwind of them, one approached to within 20m of our position, strategically situated behind boulders and trees. Eventually, Jan had to indulge in a bit of arm-waving to persuade it to move off.

We had just crossed a stream separating us from the herd,  and clambered out of the sandy ditch when we heard it stampede. With the ditch behind us, the unseen herd in front, fear rapidly rose in one’s throat as we all strained to determine the direction of movement. Being caught down-gallop and downwind of a herd of buffalo is not the preferred place to be. Luckily they thundered across our path about 100m distant. We tracked them for while, parallel to their path, always in visual contact now, but decided not to follow them into thick bush. We could only guess at what had spooked them. “Lion” surmised Jan.

Friday 3 March
Dawn found us on the banks of the Mlambane River (“the hungry river” according to Jan and Kally), contemplating

Literally walking in the Mlambane

the gap where the low-level bridge had been. Jan had been telling us the previous evening about how he loved to follow rivers, and the decision had been made. We would spend the morning on its banks, following its course east into the rising sun. I doubt whether we realised at that stage that we would be spending a lot of time in it.  African rivers contain bilharzia, crocs and all manner of nasties, don’t they?

But this river was flowing swiftly, 50-75m wide, as pristine as it has ever been, according to Jan, because the floods had flushed it and it rose in the uninhabited Malelane mountains within the park borders. Nowhere was it more than knee-deep, mostly ankle-deep, with a sandy, gravely bottom. Its banks are lined with luxuriant riverine forest of jackalberry and massive figs, amongst other species I’d like to master.

We crossed and recrossed it, spotted two black rhino up on the bank, and came within a couple of metres of a young female bushbuck, frozen with curiosity. “Have you ever seen a buck frown before?” asked Jan. It had obviously never encountered humans before.

Where are the crocs?

But the real wonder of this day was the sense of wilderness: no humans for miles, the virgin banks scoured by the floods, only the footprints of animals, the only sounds those of the river, birds and insects.

The glare from the white sand made walking hot work, so we regularly lay in the stream, or bumslid down small rapids. Have you ever lay in a wild African river, contemplating the big sky,  a fish eagle, a leaf accelerating down a small rapid? I have.

Related posts:

1. Napi Wilderness Trail
2. Metsi-Metsi Wilderness Trail
3. Nyalaland Wilderness Trail

Our judgement impaired by a few beers and a bottle of red wine over dinner one night in the Strand, Ron, Peter and I resolved to try the Cederberg Traverse from Wuppertal to Algeria again – in the heat of December (a previous attempt was curtailed).

This time we got the logistics right. Deon, a friend who enjoys bush cooking, was appointed “base camp manager” and would run the shuttle service to drop us at Wuppertal. However, we

Peter at Kleinvlei

understimated the time required to drive there from Algeria, and consequently only set out into the Dassieboskloof at 10h00.  It was already hot – into the mid-30s.

It seems the locals have misguidedly spraypainted the names of features and path markings on most available rocks for the first 5km of the path. This, allied to the fact that power lines and water pipes, and not a little litter, mark the path, make the sector less than a “wilderness” experience.

Later that morning we shuffled into a “buite-stasie” of the Wuppertal mission called Kleinvlei, a quaint hamlet of about 10 houses and subsistence farming. Surprisingly, we were able to buy ice-cold Cokes. A friendly chat with the local women revealed that the most populous family in Kleinvlei is the Zimmeries clan. My comment that the name sounded German triggered much mirth, as the locals confirmed that an Oupa had always reminded those who would listen that “they were Germans”. Apparently, the Moravian missionaries had indulged in some over-enthusiastic conversion of the Khoi-Khoi…

Our contour map (dated 1981) shows the path up the Dassieboskloof to continue through Kleinvlei, when in fact it snakes up a kloof to the left, away from Kleinvlei, and then veers

Vogelsang valley at dusk

right to enter Dassieboskloof high on the left slopes. The locals pointed out where the path runs, but graciously allowed us to overrule them when we insisted we had to go up Dassieboskloof. Big mistake.

Little Mario and his gang were appointed to guide us up the river. The route quickly became a kloofing expedition, but the rock pools were fantastic. However, we realised that there was no path anymore and we began to doubt our map-reading abilities. The only thing to do was to climb the steep wall of the gorge until we hit the path, but by now the sun was beating down. I promptly lost my Game-filled waterbottle as we scrambled over large boulders, so I had to tackle the climb without it. The climb was an ordeal. The rocks were too hot to touch and the heat was something else. Eventually we dragged our exhausted bodies into some shade, but we knew we still had about 10km to cover to Crystal Pools. While we tried to recover, we wondered where the path was, only to find, when we finally staggered to our feet, that it was 5m away from our resting place!

The path continued upward in merciless sunshine. Eventually we decided, as heat exhaustion started to kick in, to rest in some shade until about 16h00, and then walk until sunset (about 20h00). This was a better decision than the one at Kleinvlei, and probably saved the hike for us. Although, it didn’t feel much cooler, we soldiered on up the interminable Vogelsang valley, crossing a number of vlei’s and streams. We were aiming for the tree and swimming hole near Turret Ridge, having realised that we probably wouldn’t make Crystal Pools in our condition. However, when night fell we found ourselves near the headwaters of the Sand River, still some way short of our destination. A meal, tea, custard and an incomparable view of the night sky

Big Ron and I overheat

restored us, and I enjoyed my best night’s sleep ever on a hike.

Soon after first light we set out again, determined to cover as much ground as possible before the heat took its toll. The cedar tree and the swimming hole, our goal of yesterday, looked idyllic – we will be back to spend time there. There followed a wonderful meander up the lower reaches of Engelsmanskloof. This is surely the one of the most beautiful parts of the Cederberg – sandstone castles and old cedars, valley meadows and sparkling streams.

After a great swim and breakfast at Crystal Pools we set out for Middelberg, down Groot Hartseer, across Grootlandsvlakte, where two mounted rangers – one known to us through our annual cedar-planting efforts with the Cederberg Conservation Group – passed us. We continued up to Geelvlei and Cathedral Rocks and then dropped down to the basin where the Middelberg huts nestle. It was still early afternoon and we believed Algeria was only a short downhill away, so we leisurely savoured lunch under the oaks next to the stream. At this point Peter rediscovered his sunglasses in his rucksack, which he had packed in for the previous expedition at Boosmansbos, and then ‘lost’. I suppose one way of preparing for a hike is to leave the rucksack packed…

Algeria wasn’t a mere downhill away. As we breasted the valley rim, the heat rising out of the valley hit us like a blowtorch. Although we could see the green of the campsite as we zig-zagged down the shadeless slope, we never seemed to get closer, and the lower we got, the hotter the path became. Eventually, at the end of our tether, we staggered into Algeria, attracting uncomprehending stares from the holiday-makers, and fell into the pool.

It was only in the bakkie on the road back home that we realised the Cape was in the grip of a heatwave, and that temperatures had edged into the 40’s.

I think we will spend the summer months windsurfing, and leave the hikes for autumn…

Related posts:

1. Crystal Pools – Cederberg
2. Grootlandsvlakte – Cederberg
3. Boosmansbos Wilderness Trail

This trail represented a reunion of sorts for those who had walked the Tsitsikamma Trail. Unfortunately, the whole group couldn’t make it, but Watty, Peter, Big Ron, Charlotte, Lorette and Nico did.

Boosmansbos Nature Reserve straddles the Langeberg Mountains. It lies north of Heidelberg, east of Swellendam and south-east of Barrydale in the Little Karoo, and protects the last

Duiwenhoks River gorge

remaining afro-montane forest in the range. Said forest has remained untouched because of its remoteness, and these mountains certainly are forbidding, but beautiful.

The Boosman (the angry man) was apparently a hermit who lived high in the range, selling wild honey and wood to surrounding towns and farms.

Saturday involved a long, winding trudge up the western slope of the Duiwenhoks River valley. At times the mist and cloud receded to reveal majestic peaks and deep, dark kloofs, but mostly we walked in mist. However, after we broached the saddle to follow the contour on the northern aspect of the range, the weather suddenly cleared to reveal the Little Karoo, Barrydale and the intervening valleys.

Our stay in the stone huts of Helderfontein was notable for another memorable feast prepared by Lorette and Charlotte.

Helderfontein

Sunday dawned clear and crisp, and some of us decided to take the short walk to Boosmansbos, before departing. By the time we returned from the old forest, the tongues of mist were creeping up the kloofs, and when we hit Barend Koen’s logging road, we were engulfed in the wet, but warm, fog.

The views must be awesome, but our route down the road was like walking in a tunnel of mist paved with loose clumps of sandstone. At least we were forced to concentrate on the surrounding fynbos, but wet feet, the downgrade and the compacted road were making walking difficult.

Somewhere between Helderfontein and Saagkuilskloof, Big Ron mislaid his legendary sense of humour – and then we suddenly emerged out of the mist into the stunning Duiwenhoks kloof.  All was well again as we climbed out of the kloof along a path which hugs the kloof wall. I’d like to know the story behind that path, as it is not a hiking path, but a narrow pass with small cuts and stone fills. My guess is a logging path for horses.

Related posts:

1. Sweni Wilderness Trail
2. Metsi-Metsi Wilderness Trail
3. Wolhuter Wilderness Trail