Sunday. I will survive
The weather was great, I sadly had run out of breakfast, so started off on an empty stomach, and packed my supplies for the day; 4 bananas, 1 apple and 2 litres of water.
I spoke to Daryl, someone who had done the ‘trail under construction’ from Twaalfuurkop(12 O’clock) to Tienuurkop(10 O’clock), the path up to Twaalfuurkop consisted of crumbly ground for some of the way, the view commanded from the top of the other side of the mountain was stunning, having sheer cliff faces, verdant greens and a sense so utter tranquillity, you could hear bees gently buzzing, 5 birds flew overhead sounded like a tornado jet fighter, it also felt quite special as it felt untouched by humanity. When it came to Tienuurkop I tried sticking to the top of the ridge, as there was no sign of any trail of any sort, so I didn’t go down into the wrong valley, but the bushes had started scratching my legs and so tried to avoid them by climbing down a nearly vertical rock face, things didn’t necessarily seem much better down below. I was a little concerned for a while and thought going forward might be a bit hopeless until I saw a landmark, a hut which was further than I needed to go but at least something to aim for, and also figured trying to find a route back over to my valley I’d walked up Elfuurnkop(11 O’Clock), and the fact walking up was easier due to the angle and having rocks to use as steps. At one stage the terrain changed to big clumpy things which were nice and soft, but at one point my leg plunged down into the ground, and the route became boggy, and after hearing stories about bogs in Somerset West, changed my route to avoid the boggy area. On the route there were a lot of dead trees and their branches, which were to be avoided or else they jabbed into you, a plant I’d call the washer plants, which if you trod on them, would cause water collected in the part between the stem and the leave to be knocked out, later I considered them to be my ‘handy plants’, good to hold on to, but the dead ones were ‘scratchers’.At five pm I was almost at the hut, but then couldn’t believe there was a river between me and the hut, and was starting to think it might make sense to spend the night in the hut, as sunset was around 7.30. The problem was on almost reaching the river, the river bank was far too steep to go down, so I walked to where somewhere I thought it was less steep, It wasn’t in fact much less steep, or that solid, it was metre high fern and I became quite scared when I had to climb back up the fern and could see it was a 6m drop at least, I got quite a few scratches, and went a bit further along, and it felt like serious rock climbing, double checking my hand holds before moving my feet, I’m not quite sure what would have happened if I’d slipped, and I had no reception on my phone, when I got down I was very happy, and could still feel the adrenaline pumping. At the bottom I realised it wasn’t going to be quite that simple to get back up. Whilst walking along the haphazard arrangement of rocks along the edge the narrow valley of the river, I was quite concerned about the welfare of my camera if I slipped, I found the route wasn’t impassable and turned back and tried crossing over to the other side of the river, but the other sides face wasn’t climbable, I was quite scared about how to get out of this place, I went back and decided maybe I could swim/wade it to another point which I might have more luck with, so I emptied my pockets and left my beg with all my stuff – I found somewhere I thought I stood a good change and also having the water only coming up to my armpits so I could carry my bag with one arm in the air. It was relatively simple to get to the hut then. I would have really enjoyed the ambiance of a night in there, and seeing the stars at night, but didn’t want to risk having them sending a search party out for me. It was a serious rush getting back, and had to run, mind you only on the flatter bits, and finally got down when it was 8pm and dark. They’d sent a small party out to shout for me, so got a lift for the last bit in a bakkie. I had a steak burger for supper, with lovely chips with bits of skin still on them – a friend of Alex’s drove us and seriously appreciated it, and was utterly shattered. Later in the evening a bloke called Martin, and ex-game keeper, showed us interesting photos and stories from that time of his life. I learn that white rhinos are black, but white was a corruption of the Dutch word for wide, referring to their mouth. White rhinos live in open planes and will have their babies walk in front of them, and black rhinos that live in bush will have their babies walking behind them, as the mother needs to open a path in the bush up. I also found out how to spot certain animals coming towards a watering hole; with elephants you see plumbs of dust as they spray themselves before bathing, with rhinos you just get dust clouds. There was an interesting photo of a giraffe from the side, just getting up from drinking, with tiny arc of water coming from its legs as it stands up, apparently the arc of water occurs every time they stand up
I spoke to Daryl, someone who had done the ‘trail under construction’ from Twaalfuurkop(12 O’clock) to Tienuurkop(10 O’clock), the path up to Twaalfuurkop consisted of crumbly ground for some of the way, the view commanded from the top of the other side of the mountain was stunning, having sheer cliff faces, verdant greens and a sense so utter tranquillity, you could hear bees gently buzzing, 5 birds flew overhead sounded like a tornado jet fighter, it also felt quite special as it felt untouched by humanity. When it came to Tienuurkop I tried sticking to the top of the ridge, as there was no sign of any trail of any sort, so I didn’t go down into the wrong valley, but the bushes had started scratching my legs and so tried to avoid them by climbing down a nearly vertical rock face, things didn’t necessarily seem much better down below. I was a little concerned for a while and thought going forward might be a bit hopeless until I saw a landmark, a hut which was further than I needed to go but at least something to aim for, and also figured trying to find a route back over to my valley I’d walked up Elfuurnkop(11 O’Clock), and the fact walking up was easier due to the angle and having rocks to use as steps. At one stage the terrain changed to big clumpy things which were nice and soft, but at one point my leg plunged down into the ground, and the route became boggy, and after hearing stories about bogs in Somerset West, changed my route to avoid the boggy area. On the route there were a lot of dead trees and their branches, which were to be avoided or else they jabbed into you, a plant I’d call the washer plants, which if you trod on them, would cause water collected in the part between the stem and the leave to be knocked out, later I considered them to be my ‘handy plants’, good to hold on to, but the dead ones were ‘scratchers’.At five pm I was almost at the hut, but then couldn’t believe there was a river between me and the hut, and was starting to think it might make sense to spend the night in the hut, as sunset was around 7.30. The problem was on almost reaching the river, the river bank was far too steep to go down, so I walked to where somewhere I thought it was less steep, It wasn’t in fact much less steep, or that solid, it was metre high fern and I became quite scared when I had to climb back up the fern and could see it was a 6m drop at least, I got quite a few scratches, and went a bit further along, and it felt like serious rock climbing, double checking my hand holds before moving my feet, I’m not quite sure what would have happened if I’d slipped, and I had no reception on my phone, when I got down I was very happy, and could still feel the adrenaline pumping. At the bottom I realised it wasn’t going to be quite that simple to get back up. Whilst walking along the haphazard arrangement of rocks along the edge the narrow valley of the river, I was quite concerned about the welfare of my camera if I slipped, I found the route wasn’t impassable and turned back and tried crossing over to the other side of the river, but the other sides face wasn’t climbable, I was quite scared about how to get out of this place, I went back and decided maybe I could swim/wade it to another point which I might have more luck with, so I emptied my pockets and left my beg with all my stuff – I found somewhere I thought I stood a good change and also having the water only coming up to my armpits so I could carry my bag with one arm in the air. It was relatively simple to get to the hut then. I would have really enjoyed the ambiance of a night in there, and seeing the stars at night, but didn’t want to risk having them sending a search party out for me. It was a serious rush getting back, and had to run, mind you only on the flatter bits, and finally got down when it was 8pm and dark. They’d sent a small party out to shout for me, so got a lift for the last bit in a bakkie. I had a steak burger for supper, with lovely chips with bits of skin still on them – a friend of Alex’s drove us and seriously appreciated it, and was utterly shattered. Later in the evening a bloke called Martin, and ex-game keeper, showed us interesting photos and stories from that time of his life. I learn that white rhinos are black, but white was a corruption of the Dutch word for wide, referring to their mouth. White rhinos live in open planes and will have their babies walk in front of them, and black rhinos that live in bush will have their babies walking behind them, as the mother needs to open a path in the bush up. I also found out how to spot certain animals coming towards a watering hole; with elephants you see plumbs of dust as they spray themselves before bathing, with rhinos you just get dust clouds. There was an interesting photo of a giraffe from the side, just getting up from drinking, with tiny arc of water coming from its legs as it stands up, apparently the arc of water occurs every time they stand up
posted by Peter at 2:09 pm
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