Mount Horeb viewed from the previous day's hike up another mountain. Our approach was from the extreme left.
Mount Horeb in Clarens, Free State, South Africa. What a treat. Who could resist the challenge. We researched the hike/climb and found it sketchy. Nevertheless, Dawn, a kindred spirit and owner of the apartment we booked, gave us a few tips on how to reach the trailhead.
We arrived at a gated community and were allowed to enter after some discussion. Wrong place. We left after twenty minutes and headed to the adjoining gated property. Unfortunately, we were denied entry. After a friendly chat with the guards, the office manager and a communication from the head office, we departed, unhappy but set off for a local nature reserve, our backup plan. It turned out a terrific hike with good views of surrounding mountains and the town.
Meantime, Dawn called around and found a farmer who would let us make the ascent from his property. She decided not to fight with the community management even though she told them ‘they don’t own the mountain’. In fact, not even Moses claimed ownership. Thank you, Dawn—a strong and adventurous woman who operates an efficient business. It’s wonderful when people are so helpful. In retrospect, it might have been a better idea to have played tiddlywinks instead.
The next morning, after contacting Meneer van Schalkwyk, a very helpful, active, elderly gentleman, we set off on a fifteen minutes journey to his farm where the mountain bordered his boundary. He explained the route: past the cows, through the dongas and kraal, up the gorge, along the fence, across to the signboard, over the overgrown veld and up a little (just a couple of kilometers more) and you should peak.
“I’ve never done it myself but it should be fairly straightforward.”
Sounds wonderful as we stared at this fascinating edifice, one of the highest in the Free State. As an aside, he also mentioned that cattle rustlers had stolen two-hundred and fifty pregnant sheep from the farm. He suggested we should be careful on the mountain but as I didn’t think Jen was pregnant, we did not worry much. He recovered the ewes but all aborted. What a terrible shame.
We followed the instructions and soon realized that there was no trail, no signs, only thick veld (bush-whacking is much easier), steep climbs and declines at acute angles on unstable surfaces and strong winds, making it a challenging and difficult hike; it was up there with some of the toughies we’ve undertaken over the last ten years. The steepness and distance were and are no problem for us; rather, the lack of a trail, the difficult and extremely precarious terrain made it a tough day. Much of the time we had to strain to find reasonable footing, so much so, that this heavily inhabited snake region became only a minor potential hazard. And while we were told of a short-cut down, we elected to return the longer way for fear of being misled further. Six hours on the slopes made for quite a day. Perhaps the low point was when we were at the high point of the hike and faced a decision of which route to follow to return. The thought of reversing our footsteps was unpleasant but we decided it was the only one of which we were certain. We put negativity aside and struggled down and across the steep slope, making our own switchbacks at every opportunity.
The downside, beside the sharp declines, was we were unable to find a way to the peak when we were less than 200 feet below it. Although it turned out to be a day of great satisfaction, a second day where we hiked through the bush and tested those skills not often used because of the existence of formal trails, we did not breakfast on the peak. Not a good feeling but close, not close enough.
There's always a humorous side to everything. While I slipped a number of times, suffering only a few minor abrasions, Jen remained sure-footed. Truth be told, she was outstanding. At one time, I checked whether she had lost her voice—not a whine all day. So in a situation in which she could have sustained serious injuries (me too, of course), she returned to our room without a scratch. That night, she went to the bathroom and stubbed her toe, causing pain and bleeding. Go figure!
We spotted this beauty, Jackal-buzzard, as we neared the ridge. However, we were standing
in a precarious position and it was only when Jen asked, "How long do we have to remain balancing
on one foot on an edge before the photographic session is over?" did I realize it was enough.
Spotting and viewing this creature added so much to the day. When it flew off, we were in motion
but gazed at its extended red, white and black wings.
The coloring and scenes below were most attractive as we ascended along the fence.
Horeb is just behind and left of what appears to be the highest peak.
Typical Eastern Free State scene, leading into the Drakensberg.
Horeb to the left, time for breakfast; we are stumped as to the final ascent after trying an approach from the right.
A profile of the range as we approach from the left side and the long way around. The farmer wanted us to get an idea of the extent of his land...and we 'bought' it
On the way home, an amazing white rock formation. The fence gives an idea of the slope.
Strutting in Golden Gate National Park, close-by.
A typical Golden Gate/Clarens scene complemented with aloes. (Basalt and Clarens sandstone dominate the region.)
Careful footing as we approach the gap on the smooth, white rock.
After a long day, closing in on the farmstead after fooling around on a distraction.
We met an expert birder, David Weaver, who identified 'our' birds. This is an African harrier hawk (We've become 'smart').
"Hey, you won't believe what I have down under," exclaimed the Egyptian goose. "Not another pimple," answered her mate looking a little embarrassed, we thought.
A 'little bit' of reality at a vulture hide.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
