17.06 & 17.07 The Swartberge concludes...up and over as well as "Of Mice and Men", 'John Steenbok'

Morning has broken, light the first hour...




Evening approaching, light the final hour...same picture as above, different days and time of day.



What is it that makes the battle between a couple weighing of the order of 270lbs and a mouse (one lb)
seem unfair? On the first night, actually it was at 1am, we heard a sound in the room. It seemed like someone
was opening a wrapper of candy. Ah! Each spouse thought the other was snacking. Instead, an uninvited mouse
entered the room and attacked the wrapper that had fallen from Jenni’s bag. We jumped out of bed and charged.
The mouse darted behind a backpack. The game was on. With the door open to facilitate the hastily devised strategy,
we chased the mouse from the hut. Well done, guys! Unfortunately, it returned and the scene replayed but this time
we had to search in our backpack, expecting this hideous thing to leap at us. On the third occasion, we heard a
scratching sound and discovered the rodent on our backpack. We kicked out, refusing to use our hands.
The ugly ball of black fur limped and then sprinted from the room and fortunately, we did not see it again although
sleep did not return easily. We agreed unanimously that should we never have a visit from a mouse again we’d be
quite satisfied.




Third day's route along the crest gives perspective of the ups and downs as each mountain is separated. We
commenced at extreme right side of range in picture. The path at the bottom is a jeep track.



Jenni approaches first summit on day one, from De Hoek to Botha's Hoek.


We slept a little later than expected because the room was without a glass window thus not being exposed to
early morning light. The earlier escapade added to the sleep-in. However, rising early the following day,
allowed us to view a wonderful sunrise and listen in on the chatter amongst the birds. We did not have our
better class camera with us so we were unable to have the luxury of a telephoto lens. The birds are restless,
not unlike children—they too, hate to sit still and pose for the camera.



Somewhere under these mountains, the Cango Caves. Now what's this uptights, mites business?


Talking of packing. It is quite a task to decide what to leave behind. However, when one carries forty pounds on
the back for a number of days, one learns to make hard choices. A person can take whatever one wants provided the
editor will carry it. So certain things that would have been nice to have remained in the car. It’s all about
priorities. We remember being with an Israeli couple on the Milford Trek in New Zealand. Each night they enjoyed a
fresh vegetable salad, clearly their priority. After two nights without salads, we get the feeling we are developing
scurvy. Nevertheless, if you can carry it, you take it. Carrying weight of that quantum on the body certainly changes
the nature of the hike. If nothing else, it adds to the quality and quantity of the whining.



Day four, early morning on the way down, breathtaking, we think. And that's just 'the guy' in the picture.




Would say in a heartbeat, 'impressive'. Another feature at the Cango Caves




We achieve 'breaking ground'.


These days there are options. The modern world has brought different services from the basic backpacking to
luxury hiking/camping and many variations in-between. There is slack-packing, slap-packing, clamping etc.
We’re a little old-fashioned and are not ready to have someone hike for us…yet. However, we have decided
when we grow up that we really don’t want to be pack-mules. We cannot see where the animals derive their pleasure.

We are always impressed when we meet or observe the colored (mixed race) people of the Cape. Arguably, these
folks have suffered tremendous and unwarranted hardships. Nevertheless, they are a unique people with charisma
and ‘color’ that attest to the strength of human, and particular their own, spirit. When we listen to them
converse, watch them in action and even whether we understand them or not, we are always fascinated.



A Western Cape sunrise. The editor rolls her eyes every time we post one of these. What can we do?



Stuck between a rock and a hard place, which way now?


A particular sight that is etched in our minds occurred when we watched antelope, hence part of the title,
in action on the mountains. The grace, poise and movement caused us to gape as they leaped, sprung and danced
up and down the mountains. Unfortunately, they are very timid and gave us little opportunity to catch them
on film.

The Swartberge, like so many ranges in the world, are awesome, overpowering and rugged. It certainly put us
through our paces. Nevertheless, it was a fine challenge and a wonderful experience—one we won’t forget.




Starting to get really high on the berge while in the shadows. Cheers from the Swartberge.



Cheers,


Jenni and Jeffrey



In city of George, resting after the trek. South Africa's back-up email system, pi-fi. (Homing/Racing pigeons)



'Hey Mama, you wanna make me an offer on ostrich feathers and eggs, or what?' We think her
expression intimates that sentiment as she stared at Jenni. (Oudtshoorn.)

17.04 & 17.05 Die Swartberge, what an awesome place, what a range, what a 'pain in the butt'.

Jenni crests peak three or maybe four.



At a peak, (lost count), a fine sight of the depth of the range.



Where do we begin, the story of…off to a wrong start as we confuse the words from “Love Story” with
the Black Mountains Trek. The trek invokes a love-hate relationship between hiker and the mountains. As these
giants, comprising thousands of peaks, ‘don’t say much’, we thought of looking elsewhere to vent. We would like
to meet the designer of the trail, particularly the crest section—up, over and down—at least eight mountains in
a row, in one session. There’s nothing we like more than summiting a mountain or two but hey, too much of a good
thing…we think the guy or gal designer must have had real issues as a child.



A visit to Cango Caves. The artificial light helped with the gold and reddish coloring. The caves lie close
to the Swartberge, if not under them (we'll post a few more later).



Appears Jenni is not averse to catching him in humbling positions. State of mind and body is a reflection
of the 'mound' behind after climbing over it.



One can (should) never tire of the birds.


For the first time over a 4-day trek, we did not see another hiker. That’s 27miles (43k) on a rough
trail almost without a level section. On the second day, we did come across a couple on the jeep road in
their 4by4, with a guide, Douwe Vlok. By the way, Douwe is a terrific guy, a former paratrooper and very
well informed. Anyone wishing to visit Southern Africa (highly recommended) should let us know and we can put
you in touch with him, the man who ‘sells silence’, inter alia. (Mpafa Travel).

The hike commences at De Hoek, a little way outside Oudsthoorn, the former ostrich feather capital of the world.
The town is also well known for the famous Cango Caves. We’ve thrown in a few pictures taken inside various
chambers but have not included any ostriches. Perhaps, we closed our minds to these birds or buried our heads
in the sand, so to speak. By the way, the hospitality and friendliness enjoyed in this country is beyond anything
we’ve come across before. We are the first to admit many problems exist within the country but would also exclaim
out aloud that it is a country with magnificent aspects, not the least, its people. Its potential is unlimited.



The road leads to the Swartberg Pass, completed in the late 1800's, still gravel though. The toll for children
at the time was a penny. Always grateful there's no inflation any longer according to Ben.



What I do for the editor or is it the other way around?



Unbeknown to anyone in South Africa, we spotted a volcano.

We continue to learn from our experiences particularly as we age. Some might say our rate of
acquiring knowledge is rather slow. Another lesson occurred in McGregor where we booked into the ‘honeymoon suite’
at a bed-and-breakfast in this little town below the mountains. What did we learn? It is not a good idea to take
one’s bride for a 14-mile trek through the mountains on the day of the second honeymoon unless the concept is
merely academic. What’s worse was the said bride expected to be carried into and out of the deep bath because
by that time she was fatigued. The 'charming' husband should take into account that he is some forty years weaker
than the original.



Jenni at camp one, waiter having 'brewed' a fresh cup of tea for milady accompanied with rusks.



Nearly as pretty as picture before, the national flower, the delightful protea.


Our landlady in Oudtshoorn, Wilma Pienaar kindly agreed to keep our valuables while we were in the bush.
This afforded us a great deal of comfort. We collected our passes from the Cape Nature Board, after being told
that it was a very difficult hike. To us, the length indicated it being on the short side. All our reading
about it seconded the views that it was strenuous. Our conclusion—it is strenuous, particularly the initial leg
and the section up and down the crests of the various mountains. There are times that one questions one’s sanity
but never one’s purpose or aim. At first, we had no idea where the rocky path trail would take us but after
experiencing a few cruel peaks, the pattern became clear—the path would always lead over a peak and down
somewhat before climbing another peak.



What relief, only 4 more to cross. The snaking path below is the jeep road.



If you're going to wake early, what a way do it. Sunrise at Ou Tol Hut, below the Pass.


The three huts we occupied bordered on luxurious. It might not appeal to those who like the comforts
of 5-star hotels but these had…wait for it…hot water—solar panels provided the power. In addition, there was
limited lighting, too. It’s quite something to realize that one is in the middle of ‘nowhere’, surrounded by
mountains, a few animals scampering about, delightful tweeting of birds, under a sky with thousands of stars
twinkling above and half-a-moon shining prominently, together with our own commode. Does life get any better than
that? Each day, as we arrived at the hut, we stripped, showered, washed our clothes and arranged for the
sun to do the drying. What a system! (To be continued…)



"Can't we sleep up here?" She asked. "I don't think I could face another down."


The picture tells the whole story although in mitigation, the fellow had a fever the night before.


Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey

17.02 Plaat Oos. 17.03 Twaalfuurkop, a supreme experience and more.

Making progress but a long way still to go, above Swellendam.



Weather looking ominous and two little people face these monsters, not an even playing 'mountain'.


The plan seemed a good one. On Monday, we were going to attempt this hike but were warned off by a
ranger who said it was too wet and therefore, slippery and dangerous. We are thinking of buying burkas because
when rangers look into our faces, apparently they see too many wrinkles and so treat us with skepticism. Anyway,
the plan was to wait for two days and allow the ground to dry, returning later, after completing the Boesmanskloof
hike, a wonder in itself. One small problem was that it rained for two days and so the trail was worse than before.
We missed that point somewhere in our optimism.

On Monday, we reached about 1,800 feet elevation gain and then stopped at a fast flowing stream. We were unsure of
the path and Jenni’s health was suspect so we turned back. That’s not something we do much of but at times, we have
been known to get it right. For the record, quite seldom. When we arrived at the park today, a different ranger said,
‘We are not going to charge you because of poor weather’. We also decided not to mention our intended hike. You see,
we have not purchased the burkas yet.



Big walls, one step at a time until finally above them.



A view of Swellendam district from near the top; 4,300 feet elevation gain or 4,700 feet above sea level.



Taking the gap. On our return from McGregor, we were fascinated by this sight in the distance and
a day later, we made our way to it, reaching the summit.


We did not point out today’s blog is unedited. The editor, in a rare bad mood, threatened to remove yours truly
from the world. Yes, it’s hard to believe such a gentle person could develop that amount of anger. Unfortunately,
we did give her grief, unintentionally, of course. Should she read this, we hope and trust she will accept a further
apology. More later.

The climb to the peak is strenuous, intimidating, steep, long, high and arguable one of the best experiences we
have ever had. The condition of the trail complicated matters as it was, in places, very muddy. The streams decided
that it would be more convenient for them to share the hiking trail rather than remain focused on their natural paths.
When we looked up at the cloud-covered peaks, they seemed insurmountable. Nevertheless, they are most attractive and
of course, very challenging. To reach the peak we climbed some 4,300 feet. Funnily enough, the return journey was more
difficult because of the extremely steep gradient and of course, the muddy bits. We're happy Jenni wasn't with us
when it was mentioned that two hikers had to be recued by helicopter recently. She has an aversion to helicopter flights.



Returning from the peak, a formidable experience although we hurt our editor, unfortunately.




A hidden view, from the summit, looking towards the northern side of the district, completely different
from the Swellendam side.



Jenni crests one of four false peaks.


One of us has been criticized often enough for use of superlatives when describing certain mountains, hikes
and experiences. We stand ready to face a barrage of criticism and comments after pronouncing this was indeed
a magnificent experience. However, it put us through our paces. Not surprisingly, we had the trail to ourselves
for the full six hours which included time spent registering and talking to an English visitor at the office
afterwards. When climbing those steep paths, scrambling up and over rocks, standing on the precipices, looking
out far and wide from high vantage points, one acquires what we suppose pilots feel—freedom. Although
we don’t fly, strangely enough, one does get the feeling of soaring and hence, that freedom. The world does
look different from height.



Unstable weather at the peaks provides more than enough excitement.



Editor catches us in an awkward position, obviously legs not long enough. The rock scrambling took place
after first false peak and provided much excitement.


The mountains of the Langeberg Range, within Swellendam, are named for positions on the clock. Our climb was 12 O’clock.
Apparently, the sun hits each peak on the hour from ten to one, a nice naming formula, we think. Of course, it
could never have occurred naturally. We think that many years ago, when people were much tougher than modern man,
the settlers moved the mountains to achieve the exact settings, fine-tuning so to speak. Well, it's an idea.



'Our retirement village', viewed from top with 45-times magnification. On arriving at ground
level, retirement was looking very attractive but we had no energy to get there.



Okay, so you want me to step in the brown stuff?


We suppose we should let you know the reason for the editor’s anger although we are somewhat embarrassed.
We reached a very tricky section below the peak where we had to scale boulders to proceed. We suggested the editor
wait until we had tested the terrain. Thereafter, we agreed she would wait as we headed for the peak or thereabout.
We said we would not be 'long'. Unfortunately, it took us 55 minutes to reach the top, take a few hurried pictures
and return down to join her. We felt terrible but apparently not as terrible as the editor. There were a number
of false peaks in front and so as we got to one we thought, “Let’s push up a little further; at the next, we’re
almost there” until we could not quit. When you’re committed it’s difficult to turn back although this could be
considered selfish. We don’t like to use that word but we think the editor might be thinking along those lines.

After a very quiet night, we think we are seeing a thawing...however, we shouldn't talk too soon.

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey

17.01 Boesmanskloof hike, Greyton to McGregor

Heading up and home from the depths of the canyon.



Color on the trail as we look towards the destination.


Hats off to our editor who showed 'vasbyt' (courage) this week when she completed two hikes, a steep
climb and a strenuous, long one. Africans are tough and clearly she is one of them. What made it remarkable is that
she has been sick on-and-off for the last ten days. Perhaps the winters are not cold enough. Who knows? We don't
think we should make such comment to a Canadian, eh?


The falls provide a wonderful resting place en route as Jenni makes the crossing.



The Protea Bowl.


Before mentioning today's hike, which was nothing short of spectacular, we thought we'd write
something about the places we are visiting. The more small towns we see, wherever we are in the world,
the more we like them. After living in large cities for most of our lives, we have either reached a stage
in which the enthusiasm has waned or our tastes have changed. The lack of noise, congestion and density makes
for wonderful quality living. The gorgeous scenery can be viewed from anywhere and the people are always
friendlier than city slickers. Of course, we don't have the ballet out here in McGregor and Swellendam but
we get by. Jenni is quite nimble on her toes and does a mean pirouette—a nice compensation.



The trail is always on the edge, providing wonderful views as it leads us down and up again.



At the half-way stage, we see the pass up ahead.


We have been unable to avoid local politics even though we detest the worldwide system of dishonesty,
corruption and personal self-advancement which it encompasses. Nevertheless, we cannot help but feel sorry
for Jake 'Zoomlens', the local president. With American security agencies snooping in our email boxes, we
cannot be sure we are safe from the South African equivalents. Therefore, names have been changed. Also, as
we have been having camera difficulties, we thought the code-name dovetails nicely.

His real problem seems to be overspending on home improvements. Apparently, the new security system at
his house costs R230 million. While this might seem a trifle high, does the electorate really understand
the issue? One argument is that it also includes a swimming pool. We’re sure Jake will have no problem in
explaining to his captive audience that it might look like a pool when in fact it’s a moat. People can be
quite dumb—look whom they voted for in the first place. As an aside, we saw one poster the other day about
'change'. We know something about ‘change’ having experienced it in America these last years. To us, change
is more akin to one set of politicians feeding at the trough and another set imploring the electorate to vote
them in so they can have their turn, for a change.



Vivid colors in front, the less colorful town of Greyton behind.



Some rock scrambling on well positioned stones although somewhat slippery.




Reflections in the tannin contained water below falls.


Back to Jake. Why all the security? The man has four wives and numerous girlfriends. Can you see the issues?
Imagine the tension and danger lurking in that house? Our only complaint, if we even have one, is that Jake may
think it’s correct to service his womenfolk and screw the country. He might be looking at it the wrong way around.
Perhaps he should concentrate on servicing the country…



Reminded us of Salkantay in Peru.



Editor sends porter down to get a cup of water for her ladyship.


We did say we should mention today's glorious hike between the towns of McGregor and Greyton. It’s a good
physical test as one treks along the mountain edges moving up and down constantly. There are frequent stream
crossings which takes one to the canyon floor only to rise again creating a large net elevation gain. We walked
fourteen miles (22K) with spectacular views on display every step of the way. Linking the towns by car takes
about ninety minutes because one has to travel around the mountains. By foot, it is a mere four hours, if one
steps on the gas.

Finally, the weather was awful in the early morning. It was extremely misty, intermittent rain was followed by
heavy rain—it looked bleak and miserable. Once we began, our spirits soared as we hit this remarkable trail and
location and were rewarded with improving weather for the rest of the day.

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey



The traditional ritual with waterfall to the lower left. (Cut him some slack, if you would.)

17.0 Scenes from 'Fiddler on the Roof' as we continue in the Western Cape.

SUNRISE...SUNSET.



San Diego sunset.


The beginning of another leg of our adventure or, it would be nice to begin with a couple of reconditioned legs.
The highlight of our trip to South Africa so far was seeing Mom. In all fairness, our yardstick of measure
to reach such conclusion was a 22-hours plane trip as well as a walk along a sidewalk in which all manhole covers
had been stolen. A walk during the night would amount to an incredible adventure. Seriously, it was and is wonderful
to see Mom and that she looks ten years younger than her age is a blessing. We make this statement notwithstanding
we are her second-favorite son. She must have good genes and we hope she passes on her jeans to us, or
at least, to Jenni. A special thank you to Hil and Ern Saks for their kindness—lovely to see them, too.

It is always good and interesting to ‘return home’. In the short-time we have spent in the city, we wonder of
the plan in the minds (we use the term loosely) of the leadership to advance the country. As long as the ruling
class continues to steal the assets of the people while some of the people believe strikes are a good mechanism
to make the country competitive against the dynamic economies of the world, Alan Paton’s “Cry the Beloved Country”
takes on a different but equally disturbing meaning. Enough with inexpert opinion. And now for something completely
different.

We are in the fourth oldest town in South Africa, Swellendam (1743). It sits under and along the Langeberg,
the ‘long’ mountain. It is also not far from the Swartberg Mountains, another range we intend to trek.
That’s the plan for the initial stages of our sojourn in the motherland. We hope you will join us as we explore,
for us, virgin territory. In the meantime, we are always in awe of the daily exhibition of the sun and so
we included a few shots from our recent stay in San Diego and less recent visit to Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.



"Y...ello from the mountains."



San Diego Mountain sunrise.



On the way down Woodson, the contrast of sun and shade captured the eye.



The sun sinks at Pearl Harbor.



Sun gone but proverbial after-glow remains.



The 'home city', San Diego downtown, with Coronado Bridge to the left, from part-way up Woodson.


Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey