54.19 KwaZulu-Natal: Mpumalanga Traverse and into the storm. 54.22 George taking us on a hike.

Order has its own beauty. 
Something about this scene is special...still thinking about it.
Sugarloaf from another position.
Sun lights up a peak before the storm.
Jen heads down after the storm passes.
Who are you looking at, fella? This is a second cousin to the couple that we photographed a few weeks back. We think the relationship is on the mother's side.
It's about the light.
And that's Camel Hump from another angle as well.
If we hadn't stopped for breakfast, I was told, we might have missed the storm. Had we not had breakfast, the fall-out might have been greater. Heads you lose, tails you...
Jen rushes for her poncho...the rain has arrived in the left corner.
I don't know whether I have to pitch or get wacked. Lightning storms bring out a strange part of Jenni. And on a freeway, too? 

This was an unusual hike, shorter than usual, as we were rather tired after a tough set of previous outings. We decided to keep up the momentum but at a slower pace rather than declare it a rest day. We introduced George a few weeks ago. He's a tough little dog, versatile and not without personality. George determines whether he will join you for a hike. He also gets under one's feet which is exacerbated on the narrow edges. He has not learned much etiquette of the slopes. However, he makes up for it by sheer entertainment and staying power. 

  On occasions, he'll disappear at which time we'd become nervous that the mutt is lost. After calling out for a while, we notice after a short gap, he'll return. He does it in a nonchalant manner. Jenni has taken to George and I think the sentiment is mutual. However, he is often aloof but that may just be George not wishing to show too much affection and allow us to believe we're good friends. As guests are only resident for a day or a few, we believe George avoids relationships. For example, we purchased dog-treats for our second visit. We found that when we offered them to him, he played hard-to-get. He turned up his nose and walked away. A short while later, the treats were gone. We know that nobody else ate them. We'll miss George...but only a little. 

Guess who and George, as we stop at a camp. 

  Water, water everywhere and plenty for George to drink.

 

 Cheers, 

 Jenni and Jeffrey

54.17 KwaZulu-Natal: Central Drakensberg: Heartlands Pass to the base of Cathkin Peak.

Overpowering? Cathkin Peak.
A little tiring toward the top.
In the thick of things.
'Eye of the Needle' something to strive to reach. Looks really smooth.
Heading away from the mountains before turning to reach the base.
Viewing the initial part of trail as we pass a rather narrow section.
Relatively speaking, quite a cutie.
Lone Tree.
On another hike, another trail, we climbed to the Sphinx below.
Following a scary climb.
Like the way the water seems to tumble over the wall.
At 8:30am, it's going to be a long day.
Also tired but justifiably.
Getting closer. 

 Allow us to introduce Frank, an African fellow who hails from Limpopo. He’s the husband of Rosalie, the char, who worked weekly for my Mom over a period of twenty years. When Katy retired from full time employment, Rosalie became her successor but only once per week. We met her each year on our trips to visit Mom including her daughter, until the little Mamcy grew up and stopped visiting with her mom from about 9 years old. 

  We first met Frank when he began collecting furniture and household effects the week after Mom left this world. I helped him carry out beds, couches and toughest of all, two sideboards, one comprising marble components. In an earlier blog, I mentioned that the moment I met the man, I knew I'd like him as a friend. He’s a rather young guy in my company, merely sixty-years old. How the concept of ‘relatively speaking’ works in the context of age. I loved his approach to the task. He always remained warm and friendly, although stoic as we figured how we’d get these massive pieces of furniture into the Toyota vehicle. At times, the bigger job was trying to maneuver the pieces from the rooms, through the entranceway and of course, front door, not to mention the outside security gate. It’s an example of the security system preventing us leaving rather inhibiting intruders. 

 Frank studied the challenges, while I added my two-bits of basically worthless feedback. Somehow we managed to remove most pieces from the house and into the car. Fortunately, they live close-by allowing for frequent trips. On one occasion, we had Mamcy walking behind the car providing gentle support to an overhanging table. Of course, the banter followed at times, especially when Mamcy complained that she was tiring. At twenty-two, I did not think people got tired. Then I remembered that applied only during nightclub sessions. 

  I think the main point of this story is along the lines of human interest and struggle. In Western societies, things work much smoother than other places. Invariably, it involves finance supported with machinery. In poorer countries, the people improvise in many ways, carrying goods on their heads, backs or borrowing, to name just a few ways of achieving goals. That Frank has a vehicle is already a big advantage. By the way, when we looked at the size of the dining-room table, even Frank thought he would need to call an acquaintance that has a bakkie (truck). Turns out the man would charge but unfortunately, he could not start the engine of his vehicle. Frank looked again at the problem. 

Here is where something struck me. We both lived through part of the ‘Apartheid’ society but fortunately, look at humans from a perspective of decency rather than ethnicity. I watched the man at work. It became clear to me how well the free-market system works when left to its own devices. Frank used his brain and developed a procedure that would allow us to remove the table from the house as well as load it onto an adequate-size vehicle. 

It worked. What it did require was that I help in any way I could, make any suggestions but in the end, follow the instructions of the master. While I may have a formal education whereas Frank is without one, as my Dad would say, ‘Class rises to the top”. This was surely the case. I took the backseat and lent a hand while the master led by example with both ingenuity and strength. What a pleasure to work in the shadow of both a gentleman and smart person. 

  As this was a second session together, familiarity allowed for some frivolity which included the young Mamcy and the occasional peeps from Rosalie, wife and mother. Oh, how easily the world works when allowed to function naturally. 

Frank and Jeffrey, your old and reliable furniture movers.
Love the steps. How about an elevator (lift)?
When she was a golfer, we would have termed this a day 'in the rough'. Better than living rough, though.
Fascinating range and shapes.
Close to our turnabout point. Need to examine a way up. Would require two days for the whole trip.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

Jeffrey chases after Jenni...what's new?

54.20: KwaZulu-Natal: Baboon Rock, Little Switzerland, somewhat south of the Big Switz...

When we come across beauty in the wilds, it feels like a reward. When we focus on the source of such beauty, we obtain a better understanding of where we live and that such beauty is a mere tease of what exists. (JCL) 

Sunrise in the mountains. Yet another perspective of the Amphitheatre (to the left). Different position from Drakensberg Retreat but not that distant for a crow or two. 
Later in the day, The Amphitheatre cools under clouds.
Facing the Cone early in the day.
The following day, Jen returns from the peak of the Cone. The contrast is staggering depending which way one faces.
You may have noticed one of us particularly likes reflections.
The early morning light created special effects.

The baboons spot Jenni stalking them and flee. She has been known to have that effect upon people and animals except bears, snakes and more recently, cows.
This guy is in panic as he fears the worst in me. You might not be able to discern the movement, but he was quivering in his proverbial boots. If you look very closely, you'll notice droplets of sweat flowing from the poor guy. Friends! (Romans and...). There's a lesson for you all to learn from this.
Jenni considers the consequences of going down, through and up versus returning to the chalet for breakfast and a nap.
Little house on the prairie. It might need a bit of work.
The Drakensberg Retreat, one of our favorite places to stay, situate on the mountain plateau above this lake.
Down below are some of the chalets of Little Switzerland. Our car is the sole occupant of the park. This of course proves, contrary to popular belief, we don't always take our car with us when we hike.
This lake we often viewed from a different angle (place) at the Drakensberg Retreat.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

54.16 KwaZulu-Natal: The second Camel Hump: Well, not the hump so much as the hike was a repeat but from another direction.

Smoke from creating fire-breaks meets clouds and they intermingle.
The final stage before the near vertical climb.
Is there time for a quick view of the Amphitheatre? It was once said there are no stupid questions...maybe, this is a first.

We returned to Ledges Chalets for a 3rd time. It's nearly embarrassing but frankly, it's a great place with access to many stunning hikes, constant views that excite a person and some wonderful people. It's close to Royal Natal National Park. Funnily enough, we did not have an opportunity to venture over to the park. I'm pleased it was not me who said we should go for a fourth stay--maybe then we'll reach Royal Natal. Instead, we headed for Little Switzerland, spent a few days there and once again, could not find our way to the park. It was not a directional issue for a change. 

  At Ledges, we met Jessica, one of the owners. After some conversation, we determined she went to school where our children would have followed had we remained in South Africa. She attended Wendywood High School—Gavin and Natalie were at the elementary institution. The interesting and coincidental part is that the headmaster was none other than Ben Brooks. I have often said and even written, that Mr. Brooks, my English teacher for a few years at high school and rugby coach for 4, had an extremely positive effect upon me. Other than my Dad, he had the next level of influence over me. While this may not be apparent to anyone else, I shall be forever grateful to my English teacher and rugby master. Thank you, Sir. 

Looking quite chipper considering what lies ahead.
Apparently, she made it. Now it's a little of a smug look.
Not too bad a view of the Amphitheatre. Actually, there are no less than good views. I would think we have witnessed it from more than 30 positions. Ronnie Diamond had a smart comment to add when we had reached 15. I'd hate to hear it now...maybe, we would.
A view of Sugarloaf from our top, quite a tough experience, also undertaken twice. We were interrupted when we came across a gang of poachers (earlier blog). The wall below the plateau on which Sugarloaf rests, provides an indication of an aspect of the climb.
The land is beautiful—even the fire is attractive...from a distance.
In some circles, this is not considered showing-off. We have yet to identify those 'circles'.
Admittedly, this is called slacking off.
A view of the other side from Camel Hump peak.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey