Leaving Shamrock Hut at the start of
day 2. |
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It was a late start after a
muesli breakfast and a cup of tea, before we set off around 08h00 on
what was to prove the longest day of the trail at 16.1 km and the
most exhausting one at that. Leaving Shamrock hut ahead of the group
of 'piepiejollers' (too rude to translate) who, despite being our neighbours for the night,
had been located out of sight at Landroskop Hut, less than 100 yards
away. The path swept past their hut but then swung to the right,
reaching a jeep track that meandered down the valley towards the
gorge fed by Riviersonderend, literally 'river without end'. At was
at this point that we passed fields of exquisite colour, coupled with
the sweet smell that fynbos generates, a paradise on earth. Fires
had occurred here in recent years and a distinction regarding the
age of the vegetation could be made where fire breaks had been cut
in the landscape. |
The surface of Theewaterskloof dam
shimmers, as we head down the jeep track at dawn from Shamrock Hut. |
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Though best avoided, fires do
serve a purpose in allowing 'old' fynbos to regenerate, as long as
they do not occur too frequently. When they do, it is often as a
result of the accidental or malicious, deliberate intervention by
man, rather than resulting naturally. By the time a fynbos community
has reached the age of 15 years since the last fire, it is ready to
burn. All the species have flowered and set seed for several
successive years by then. On average most fynbos plant communities
burn every 12 to 15 years. This frequency is determined by the rate
at which vegetation grows or the fuel load accumulated after the
previous fire. The fuel load is the amount and arrangement of
flammable vegetation. Slow decomposition results in enough fine dead
material on the ground to carry a fire, thereby increasing the
flammability of fynbos. In addition, some plants produce high levels
of secondary compounds that make them more flammable. |
The Protea, South Africa's national
flower. |
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Along the jeep track, a sign
indicates the direction of Boesmanskloof, our destination for the
day. Crossing Riviersonderend, we followed the path that led towards
Boegekloof, where the remnants of a suspended wooden bridge is all
that remains to allow one to cross the stream, other than having to
step over rocks in the river itself. Unbelievably, we discovered an
assortment of tools that had been left behind by construction
workers who had failed to complete the work.
The group of young hikers
had caught up with us at this point. They had left their packs
behind, a sign that they were heading for suicide gorge for a spot
of kloofing or canyoning (this
video clip shows typically what it's all about). We were in no
hurry ourselves, content to absorb the splendour of the region. the
early morning cloud had burnt off and it was turning into a warm
day, with signs that it was going to be really hot later.
The Riviersonderend Gorge
is 24 km long, and Suicide Gorge is a 17 km circular haul. Some
people do both gorges on the same day. It's not to be attempted by
the faint-hearted. With jumps from 3 to 15 metres in height, the
highest compulsory jump being approx. 15 metres, a lot of time is
spent in the water as you follow its course through the gorge. The
only way out is to continue down the river, thus a commitment to a
day of kloofing is essential. the water, which assumes a tannin
colour, is also extremely cold, even on a hot day. |
The remarkable colours of Cape
fynbos in evidence here. |
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Boegekloof from the path, as we head
down to the wooden suspension bridge. |
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A group of 'kloofers' crossing
Boegoekloof suspension bridge ahead of us. Unsuspended perhaps, reckons
Ralph! |
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View up Boegoekloof Gorge towards
Jonkershoek. |
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Above Boegekloof lies
Dwarsberg at 1523 metres. Leaving the Boegekloof river gorge, a
momentary glance back up the kloof in a north-westerly direction
provides a splendid view of the route towards the ridge that
ultimately leads down into Jonkershoek Nature Reserve, on the
Stellenbosch side. We soon reached Suicide Gorge, down which the
young hikers ahead of us had begun to make their way. Despite
encountering pools where the desire to immerse ourselves in it's
crystal-clear waters seemed a worthwhile option at this stage, we
crossed the river just above where it drops sharply down into the
gorge below. Following a path that virtually turned back on itself
with the river now directly below us, we reached another stream
within Noordekloof, where we stopped for lunch and a swim. Both
these spots are also an excellent source of drinking water.
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Approaching Suicide Gorge; 'Kloofers'
head down the gorge. |
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Noordekloof - location of our lunch
break. |
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An hour or so later, we
pressed on as we headed up Noordekloof towards Pofaddernek,
literally 'puff adder neck', a gradual yet steady climb. Despite the
cloud mass building up to the west, a sure sign of the impending
rain weather, the temperature was up. The front was only expected to
hit the next day, so there was no immediate cause for concern. The weather in these parts
being unpredictable however, the last
thing you want is to be caught out in the thick of it.
Occasionally, the breeze brought some welcome relief however there
were moments on the path where we found ourselves sheltered from it,
the heat rising in waves off the ground. We knew
there was still a long way to go after Pofaddernek, not least the
long descent down Bobbejaankloof ('baboon gorge'), our hut at
Boesmanskloof ('bushmen's gorge'), as well as Theewaterskloof Dam,
still out of view at this point. The zig-zag path, not as well
maintained, was fairly eroded in places, not least the short cuts
that had been created between sections of the path. |
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View looking back towards as we head
up Noordekloof. In the distance lies Shamrock Hut. |
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The long descent of Bobbejaankloof
from Pofaddernek, to our resting place for day 2 - Boesmanskloof Hut. |
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The zigzag descent along the
somewhat eroded path of Bobbejaankloof; Crossing the bridge at
Boesmanskloof Hut at the end of day 2. |
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We reached Boesmanskloof hut
late afternoon, still illuminated by the sun soon to slip behind the
mountains at the end of another day. To the east, into which
Riviersonderend flows before it meanders on before forming a
tributary of the Breede River, we viewed Theewaterskloof Dam ('tea
water's dam', possibly a reference to the tannin-coloured water from
the mountains), which forms part of the Western Cape Water Supply
System. It was strange being back here, in a way. Many years ago,
during my days as an electrical engineering student, I had worked
for a spell at the Department of Water Affairs and had paid a visit
to carry out inspections and test the soil pH. This was no time for
life's reminiscences. Our priority after a wash was to organise our
dinner in the shelter of the outdoor kitchen before nightfall, as
depicted by Ralph's photo below, a study of a pair of seasoned
hikers, if ever there was one. For the record, note the bottle of
condensed milk on the table, evidence of Ralph's raging sweet tooth
I was referring to earlier. The wind blew a gale all night and the
windows and doors rattled. I don't think my iPod had progressed
beyond track one before I had lapsed into the state of reduced
consciousness. I remember waking up in the middle of the night
remembering that I had left damp hiking clothes and socks draped
over a rock for them to dry, so I got up and ventured outdoors to recover them. |
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Ralph and I cooking dinner at
Boesmanskloof Hut. |
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