As we crest the first mountain on day 2, the sights get even better.
Returning to Africa is always an interesting experience. One ponders the reasons for leaving in the
first place and whether it was the correct decision. Perhaps something that was never part of the equation
is that our lifestyles are so different currently from the first thirty-six years lived in the country.
Our lives, when in South Africa these days, involve exploring and adventuring in parts of the country that
we experienced so little of previously. This is a big difference from city life in general and especially
the earlier periods filled with education, business and social engagements while raising children. Therefore,
comparisons are not practical because our activities are so different and varied.
Being out amongst the natural wonders, whether it’s in this or any other country, living in small towns,
facing challenges, both mental and physical while sweating most days and being rewarded with visual beauty
and varying and unique experiences each day, is truly a life like no other. As Jen likes to say and I fully
concur, nothing beats the struggle and hopefully, the success of reaching our physical goals each hike.
The subsequent period following the hike in which we relax and engage in other daily activities becomes
very meaningful.
A few weeks ago, in a rather odd turn of events, our son, Gavin, made the comment how grateful he is that
we did move to America. Without providing his reasons in this essay, which we thought were apt and incisive,
it was most interesting to hear. (Continued after pictures.)
Cathedral Falls, quite spectacular and tucked away from all but hikers.
Second day: We reach one of the peaks. Maritzbos Hut can seen below (Roughly, middle of photo.).
Editor continues climbing after setting a blazing trail. Town of Sabie behind.
Meantime, showered and unshaven, 'boy-hero' takes a break.
Jenni spots a snake while I was following the movement of blesbokke. (Special picture for brother, Mark.)
Looking at the next day's target while absorbing the beauty.
Only visiting. Our endpoint of the trek. However, we met the shuttle at the police station
and were transported to the trailhead near Sabie. We had the option of leaving the car with the police
or at our lodge. The latter, we considered the safer option.
Editor waves from a great spot. Following picture shows where she's headed.
Down we go.
Viewing the third day's target some 11 miles distant beyond and below the tower.
'Tannie Jenni' and the students as we spend day climbing and descending. (See below for the story.)
The third night at Mac Mac Hut, the sun had set.
Tough trail, many rewards.
At Graskop Hut, our endpoint, we meet Innocent. However, like many kids, he was on the phone.
We still had a further 2 miles to reach the police station. Innocent's father kindly gave us African directions
which were accurate but not easy to understand. One pointer was to walk 'between two houses'.
Perhaps one of our favorite signs. We suppose this does not apply to women.
Does it mean where no signs exist, one is permitted to relieve oneself? So many questions...
Story continues below...
When we were growing up, South Africa was considered a mixed economy, a combination of an industrial power,
certainly by African standards and third world, as well. There were these two systems existing side-by-side.
Whatever the classification is today, it does not matter for our purposes. However, we think many of us make
the mistake, if it could be termed that, of believing that a western style economy is what should be sought.
Whereas we ourselves favor the concepts of efficiency, mass production and hence lower pricing and all
the benefits of a free market, that may not be the desire of the African citizen. Westerners like power
on demand, in fact everything on demand delivered efficiently at competitive pricing. To put it another way,
first-world countries are highly efficient consuming nations. This is perhaps built into the western mindset
after years of trying to perfect the system.
We believe the mentality and culture of the African differs from that ethos and as long as people expect
South Africa to follow a wholly western approach to life, disappointment will prevail. Clearly, this is
an opinion that is passed with some thought and observation but no research or depth. We’ll leave it there.
The editor outdid herself in a couple of ways, again. She chose the four-day Fanie Botha trek for our first
foray back into the country. The location is in Mpumalanga, formerly, the Eastern Transvaal. It is a rugged
hike, following at times a primitive trail as it traverses and climbs a few mountains. It’s between the towns
of Sabie, where we commenced and Graskop, where we ended and are currently staying (recovering). At one stage,
we stood at the peak of a mountain and were able to view both towns by turning 180 degrees. It was a
spectacular trek, one that provided a challenge and much satisfaction. The route covered attractive mountains,
glorious waterfalls tucked into places only visible by foot-traffic, birds, antelope and more colorful butterflies
than we’ve ever seen anywhere else. The Blyde River followed us wherever we walked or perhaps that should read
the other way around. The problem with streams and rivers is that they like to flow at ground level—can’t blame
them. This means that each time we cross a river, we walk down the mountain only to rise and climb up again on
the other side of the water. We did quite a bit of this over the last few days although not as much as on a leg
in the Swartberg last year.
We ended up hiking over four days but as we commenced at 12:30pm on Monday and completed it on Thursday at 11:30am,
it amounted to three full days. Over the period, we hiked thirty-four miles, gained a cumulative near on 7,000 feet
and finished with sore feet. All-in-all, it was an experience we are thrilled to have undergone and would do it
again but not this week.
On the first day, we arrived at Maritzbos Hut to find twenty-three people already settled in. It was a pre-college
group on a year’s course. They are guided to understand themselves, life and relationships—we wanted to sign up, too.
The average age, besides their councellors, was about nineteen. We spent the rest of the trip with them although
we hiked alone. Truth be told, it would not be fair to expect them to keep up with the 'tannie' (the respectful
term given to an elder), full-backpack notwithstanding. Talking about backpacks, we carried thirty-five pounds,
which for a couple of weaklings is heavy. Particularly down the tricky paths, it influences one’s balance and is
easy to topple when the weight shifts as one negotiates the slippery and sloping parts. We find that we don’t
eat particularly well on these treks as we seem to take more clothing than food. If we were guaranteed no rain,
we might change the mix.
On the second evening, two of the youngsters had not arrived at the hut as the light faded quickly. It was
a scary time as search parties went looking for them. Fortunately, at about 8pm, a local employee of the
forestry service brought them back. They had missed a junction turn and ended up at the beginning of the hike.
What a tough experience and one to which we can relate. We too had an interesting occurrence on the first day.
However, in our case it is not unusual.
Sleeping in the huts is proving to be difficult lately because of snoring. One young man, known to all as
they are fellow students, had the worst case of grunting/snoring/moaning we’ve ever heard. Half his colleagues
removed their mattresses and slept outside. We would have done the same but for the fact we only brought our
light summer inners. When we did go to the bathroom, a nice term for it, it was an opportunity to enjoy and
appreciate the night sky. While it could not compare with the views on Mauna Loa in Hawaii, perhaps the most
star-covered sky we have ever experienced, it was fabulous. We are not able to identify stars by name but
as one Supreme Court justice said in a different context, we recognize beauty when we see it. Huts are unisex
affairs throughout the world. However, the councellors separated the genders into two sections for sleeping
which was refreshing. As we did not wish to upset the arrangement, we complied with the local rule. However,
on the last night, in order to take a little more cover from the snorer, I joined the women—something I could
get used to.
One of the highlights occurred on the second day and perhaps the third as well. These two days were tough
in which the big distances and climbing took place. We were always well ahead of the group so upon arrival
at the huts, we had a few hours on our own. Stables Hut had a shower which proved that contrary to popular
belief, I can hit a high note. Upon entering the outside cold shower, very cold, I came close to breaking
glass plus one or two body parts. Nevertheless, the feeling after washing and re-washing over five minutes
was unbelievable. Of course, the editor is much braver than me or does not sing that well. On the third day,
the Mac Mac Hut was without showers but did have an outlet from the water tanks. We stripped and washed full
bodies under the faucets, a slight acrobatic movement but cleansing. We also washed clothes and hung them
to dry on those days. Sounds silly but it’s wonderful to be carrying relatively clean clothing. Even nicer
and perhaps sillier, it’s a better feeling to be tired, have a few aches, feel satisfied with the achievement
and watch the clothing dry naturally. Heck, there is no accounting for idiosyncrasies. During this wash period,
we had wonderful views into the valleys although anyone watching us may not express the same sentiment.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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