Towards the end of the trek, these attracted our eyes (minds).
An African sky in Mpumalanga.
There were many features, incidents and anecdotes from the trek that created extra interest for us.
What we find fascinating on Hike-about is that everyday brings along something different, often amusing, always
informative and educational, sometimes annoying but invariably, different. We always hope that nothing serious
on the downside occurs, obviously. Quite often, there are coincidences that just cannot be anticipated or
explained—one rides with and enjoys them. The serious business of life should not be taken...too seriously.
One realizes as one, dare we say, matures, where one fits into in the pecking order. The trick is not to rate
oneself too highly—the fall can be dangerous to one's mental health.
We began walking along the trail at about 12:30pm and within twenty minutes, Jenni felt quite ill. We were
obviously worried as at that stage, we only had 34 miles to go and 7,000 feet to ascend. What to do.
Long story short. Jenni soon recovered and has never been stronger on a hike. What was the remedy?
There's nothing like a good pep talk and spanking—works every time. (Continues after pictures...)
The rolling hills enjoy soft light at an early hour of the morning.
After being at the summit for a while, we head down towards the forest on the left to collect
a few 'miggies' (bugs), enjoy shade and a stream before climbing again. Trail designer had a sense of humor.
Capturing the contrast in the valleys and opposite mountains.
The plant life along the monolith walls were a little haunting.
Jenni climbs again after cresting the mountain behind and descending sharply.
A couple of birds. Most were too shy to capture on 'film' and/or we were too slow.
A most delightful waterfall: High, shining-dark walls and green growth everywhere.
The blesbokke were also shy and kept their distance.
Nightfall as we contemplate the next day's huge distance over the mountain with the tower.
Away from the trail and back to Graskop—which would be quite a lead-in for a title. He was selling
nuts and we'll refrain from further comment as being inappropriate.
Stopping for a break after being on the plateau of the mountain. Glorious feeling
and terrific sights but perhaps a little weary is our editor.
This time it's the late afternoon sun causing light and shadows.
We spent much time in and among timber plantations.
'Partial' moon but loved the aura and the rest of it.
Shopping downtown Graskop before the rush hour. Traffic can be a 'killer'.
We continued following the erratically placed white footprints which mark the trail. As we neared a turn, two red arrows pointed us towards the left. We thought about the change in markings for a second but continued. We picked up the white footprints again so we felt that following the arrows had been correct. Another pair of arrows pointed us down to what looked like dangerous bushwhacking territory. It was. It seemed incorrect, for treks typically don't have thorn bushes, hidden potholes and other obstacles on the actual trail path. Nevertheless, we followed the arrows that pointed that way and struggled down. When we heard voices emanating from the bottom, we were encouraged to continue although we had doubts. After being whacked a few times but not slipping notwithstanding our full loads, we arrived at 'Lone Creek Falls'. There were three African woman and a baby sitting on the sidewalk. (It's an area accessible by vehicles, too). We came out the bush and startled them causing one woman to scream and jump. Obviously, nobody enters the way we did. Talk about a grand entrance. For our next trick...
After some discussion, it turns out and not surprisingly, we were miles away from Maritzbos Hut, our first night's destination. What's new? Just then a couple approached us saying, "You look like experienced hikers...is there a way up to top of the falls?"
We answered, "Firstly, you don't want to take advice from us and secondly, don't even think of climbing to the top."
The couple were Natalians—they spoke well accented English, arguably the best speakers of the language come from the province—and told us they had just returned to South Africa from Los Angeles. Talk of coincidences. Back to hiking. The woman we had scared earlier called someone on her cell phone—everyone in Africa has one of those—and we were helped back on track. The kindness shown to us was quite amazing on that day and frankly, quite often. Our hope and wish is that our reciprocation is at least, adequate.
We mentioned the food issue in the previous narrative. We carried the minimum with us and perhaps we both lost a bit of weight. I certainly got told how scrawny I look which of course did nothing for my self-esteem or wishing to have the editor feel I'm irresistible—dream on. We never take fresh food with us, we don't mean we take stale items, but we miss vegetables and fruit, something we eat daily, especially salads. I never like to be away in the bush longer than four days because by then I feel the onset of scurvy. The editor says it has nothing to do with the lack of vegetables—'it's more about the lack of something in your head'. She does not 'hold her punches' does our dear editor. With the most humility I can muster, I have to admit I take an awful lot of physical abuse on the trails and mental anguish from my dear partner. Truth be told, I love it...and her.
Something I have not understood is the fascination most people have for each other's food. A person can see this when people open their bags and prepare for dinner or breakfast. Me, I could care less—it's not my business. I noticed, once again, because this happens all over the world and every time: People look, even stare, as food bags open. Jenni tells me it's to get an idea of what can be brought and what's available on the market. Sounds plausible but I think it's a new malady, food-envy. You can see the priorities. Some bring meat, milk, salads, cheeses—the French love cheese, the Germans always bring hiking poles although I don't think they eat them. The Israelis carry salads. We bring an extra change of clothing, the editor's with matching hats.
However, I will mention in a burst of inspired thinking, we have added a new dimension. We each carry two bottles of water. Now follow this. By the time we get to the first hut, we usually only drink a bottle, sometimes even less. Therefore, carrying two bottles of water for the first stage seems superfluous. Can you see an idea brewing? New plan. One bottle of water, and one Diet Coke for the first evening to be filled with water the next morning. Occasionally, a flash of brilliance occurs in one of our minds. Nevertheless, we can understand should most not concur.
The trek was varied as we traversed and crested mountains, entered forests, walked along edges, crossed many streams, climbed plenty and of course, descended accordingly. We loved seeing and hearing the birds but at times while struggling on difficult and sometimes primitive paths, could not understand what they were so joyous about. We suppose that's the advantage of wings. We'll never forget an experience at Kenmo Lake in the Drakensberg area last year. We arrived at the lake to capture a sunrise over the water which was surrounded by trees covered in autumn leaves, a spectacular sight. What proved to be a learning experience was listening to the birds chirping vigorously. Imagination or not. It seemed they were exclaiming how happy they were to be alive and partake in another morning. Who says one can't learn from even a small group of birds which filled a tree that fine dawn.
Contrary to current thinking, we tend to drink water from the faucet wherever we travel except for Peru where we boiled it first. The water on this trek came from tanks filled with rain, the source of all water. It tasted delightful, our skin and hair felt soft after washing and we hope nothing strange begins to grow from our bodies soon...or later. We know we invite ridicule and criticism but we think perhaps the greatest con job...hmm...marketing strategy is that of having water delivered by truck to households at high prices or people buying it directly from the stores, when it's available on tap. We live dangerously and expect, should anyone be reading this, an outcry. We admit we really are old-fashioned. "Pass the Perrier, Jen."
Finally, the owner/manager of the lodge in Graskop, Ian, was (is) a delightful host. He made us feel most welcome during our stay and we were sad to leave. For those wishing to get a taste of the small South African towns in rich, natural regions, Daan's Place is the starting point. Thank you, Ian.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
Hike after next: We go on a bushwalk tracking elephants. "Hey Editor, couldn't we begin with impala,
giraffe, tortoise...?"
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