Drakensberg Wilderness Hiking South Africa - Mountain of the Dragons - Where Adventure beckons.....: CHAPTER 20 - Cobham Wilderness to Lotheni

Quathlamba

“A mass of Spears. Named thus by the Zulu warriors before the white man came. Today called the Drakensberg, Mountains of the Dragon, a name given by the Voortrekkers. Evocative names, both equally applicable to South Africa’s mightiest mountain range with its spear-like peaks – reminiscent of the saw-toothed spine of a gigantic dragon.”

Panorama April 1966

“Listen to the streams as they gurgle from their cradles and you will hear the story of the mountains. You will hear fascinating tales if only you listen! Lie next to a stream and listen to the song of the mountains. The smiling faces of the flowers, dancing in the wind. Venture into the remote valleys or stand on a peak at sunrise or sunset, after snow has fallen, and you will hear a song that you will never forget - the Song of the High Mountain".

DRAKENSBERG WILDERNESS PHOTOS © WILLEM PELSER

“THE TRAGEDY OF LIFE IS NOT DEATH, BUT WHAT WE LET DIE INSIDE OF US WHILE WE LIVE”

UNKNOWN

CHAPTER 20

Cobham wilderness to Lotheni

Challenging the Dragon

(Unedited chapter from my book ‘Drakensberg Wilderness – A Solo Journey through Paradise’)

After my first visit to Cobham I was very keen to go back and to do a multi-day long range hike. But I was also in the mood for a really big, epic adventure. My feet were itching to go and I sat staring out the window for many days at home thinking about it.

Eventually I took a map out and started plotting. I was looking at the Cobham Wilderness area, across the Vergelegen Wilderness, along the bottom of the escarpment, down to Lotheni wilderness and to finish up at Giant’s Castle camp. Now this would be a truly epic adventure to do solo! It would be a distance of roughly 140 kilometers through very rough and unforgiving terrain, with the first two thirds of the route a continuous altitude gain. Doing the same route on top of the escarpment would be much easier, but I was not interested and I was an explorer, hiking on top of the escarpment would not satisfy that curiosity. The hike would have to be over 8 days so that I have sufficient time to reach every days target area. When planning a multi-day hike it is very important to set target areas, as well as pre-plan sleeping spots. This makes a hike very manageable and safe; you will know exactly what to do every day and where you should be at the end of a day. This also makes planning for logistics that much easier. I do not leave anything to chance; I respect the wilderness too much for that to happen. My backpack packed for 8 days was not going to be an easy item to drag around the mountains; the only additional stuff going with me being food which can quickly add a lot of weight to a backpack.

My biggest concern was my safety in terms of drug smugglers and cattle rustlers. It is well known that the Cobham area has a number of drug smuggling routes being used by the Basotho’s from Lesotho. One reason for this is the number of mountain passes in the area giving easy access into and out of the wilderness. Once they enter the wilderness they are virtually undetectable and won’t be seen. I just had to be extra vigilant.

It took me a week to painstakingly work out a route on the map, following valleys and rivers and planning to get to what look like worthwhile spots to visit. Because of the distance and the wild wilderness area I also had to work out a couple of escape routes along the way should there be an emergency. I was going to be very far away from civilization and could really not leave anything to chance. I also had to make sure that I stay away from the major mountain passes in the area I travel through. After some triple checking between paper map and GPS software I was satisfied that both were 100 percent similar and that I made no mistake. After plotting my route on the map I had to convert the entire route to GPS readings in order to get it onto computer and into the Basecamp software. Next up was too divide the entire distance into the number of hiking days available and to work out camp spots for every day. Rechecking all the data and I was ready to transfer the data to the GPS unit.

My anticipation grew during the next week, packing my backpack and understanding the enormity of the planned trip. Eventually the departure date arrived and Jenny and I left a sunny Durban for Himeville and on to Cobham. We arrived at the reserve office and I completed all the formalities and filled in the mountain register. Said my goodbyes and promised to see Jenny at Giant’s Castle in 8 days’ time.

And so I was off again, settling into my heavy backpack, my whole life for the next 8 days on my back. It is amazing to think that one can actually carry your whole life with you inside one single bag. I left my civilian life behind with the first few steps into the wilderness and immediately became part of nature again. It is as if Mother Nature had been waiting for this moment to embrace me and lead me ever deeper into the wonders of her world. I felt as free as a bird.

The first day was taking me down the Pholela river up to Shelter Rock and then up the left valley with my target for the end of the day being Lakes Cave. The walk upstream of the Pholela River was an easy one and soon I reached Shelter Rock for a well-deserved break. The weather was good and the sun was beating down mercilessly. All around me was the dead silence of the wilderness, where all you will here is the rustling of the wind and the murmur of the rivers. Now and then the bark of a baboon or the call of a bird will pierce the silence.

I never feel lonely in the wilderness and I do not miss company. My sole focus is the wilderness around me. But, sometimes, seeing what I get to see and experience, there is the slight wish that somebody else could have been there next to me to share the moment. It is hard afterwards to try and relay to other people what you have seen and experience.

After the break it was time to head up the Nhlabeni River Valley. The easy going was now a thing of the past as the valley rapidly gains altitude towards the escarpment. The valley was a beautiful place to walk through and the meandering river a spectacular place. Pools and rapids were all over the place. I came to an area with some beautiful waterfalls and standing there listening to the roar of the water I was under a magical spell. I soon arrived at the Nutcracker Cave but did not go up and investigate it as I still had a way to go before end of day.

As I was walking along I had this nauseas feeling taking hold of me. I had this slight turn of the stomach with bile building up in my throat. Must be because of the exertion I thought. The going was tough and the altitude gain rapid. Once again, as the valley gets narrower towards the area where it starts, the scenery becomes very dramatic. The sandstone cliffs close in on you and riverine bush replaces the grasslands with boulder formations all over the valley floor. The path started winding down closer to the river. I arrived at yet another big waterfall making its way through and over the rocks and boulders in its way. 2 Kilometers further on there was another waterfall and a big cave in the sandstone cliffs above me. I was making my way through a semi-forested area and it was spectacularly beautiful. I was walking - then up, and then down through big rocks, and still, apart from the river murmurs, this absolute silence hanging in the air.

As I passed the waterfall and the cave, the way forward got blocked by a huge cliff and I would have to cross the river. The river was quite wide and in flood and it was not going to be an easy task. I was keen on keeping my boots dry so I took them off, tied the laces together, and hanged them around my neck. At this stage I was not feeling well and the nauseousness increased by the minute. I was feeling sick.

I was ready to cross the river and soon I was close to waist deep in a very strong flowing river. It was dangerous to cross but I had to get to the other side of the river. Balance was precarious and lifting one foot and finding a hold for it in front of me proofed to be a difficult thing to do. The rivers in the Drakensberg do not have flat sandy bottoms but consist of a rocky bed. As you move a foot forward, that same foot must feel for a place in between the rocks where it can stand. It is an extremely slow process, repeated foot by foot. The current is pushing strongly, trying to get you off balance. Using the walking stick as a third leg and to balance myself with, I eventually made it across. It took me about 15 minutes! I sat down on the opposite side waiting for my feet to dry in the sun. I reached for the waterbottle to have a drink and to my dismay realize it was gone. I instantly became a very unhappy person. I stood up and had a look across the river to the other side; maybe I would be lucky and it fell out of its pocket when I took my boots off. No such luck though. I sat there pondering whether I really wanted to cross the river again ad retrace my steps and try and find the water bottle. I did not know how readily water would be available further on in the trip and I needed both water bottles for camping at night. I also did not know how far back the bottle got lost. I decided to go back through the river and search. I left my back pack on the other side of the river, and started tracing my way back where I came from. 2 kilometers on, still no sign of the bottle, I decided to go back and live without it. Walking and climbing through the rocks must have pushed the bottle out of its pocket.

For the third time I had to cross the flooded river. I was feeling plain sick by now; the bile sitting at the top of my throat and bringing up was not far into the future. I could not understand where this sudden onset of sickness came from. I had to work hard at it to prevent bringing up my insides.

The valley got even steeper now as it approached the mountain plateau. The grass and riverine bush increased and the area was a joy to walk through. At one point, close to the neck of the valley I could see the Lakes cave. The route up to the cave was very steep and I would have to cross the river again as in front of me was a tumble of rocks and boulders with no way through or around. As I stood there planning my way, I could no longer keep the bile down and the next moment I started retching quite severely. My insides came out of me in a fountain. The agony bent me over and it was so bad that I ended up on my knees, violently throwing up, retching my heart out. This carried on for about 10 minutes and after that I was just lying there in the long grass; I had no energy left to get up. I looked up at the cave and knew I could at least make the cave and that I would have to call it a day. It was a struggle to get up, and slowly I made my way through the rocks and the river to the cave. It is quite a large cave and reasonably sheltered. It was late in the day and I was very sick, fever burning me up. I knew that I could not carry on and I would also not be able to find a place to pitch the tent. I decided to stay in the cave for the night.

I sat there in the cave as I saw the shadows from the setting sun claim the valley and the hills around me. It was a beautiful late afternoon in a magnificent setting. I was still very sick. Thinking that I needed to eat something, after the long 18 km trek of the day I had to replace the lost energy, I prepared supper. However, after 2 mouthfuls I could not stomach any more food and gave it up. I had a few sips of water and that was my supper for the day.

Mist started drifting into the valley, pulling a curtain over the scenery. Soon all was enveloped and the rain started falling. Using the tent as a ground sheet I got into my sleeping bag and was soon rocked to sleep with the sound of steady rain in my ears. Quite often I would wake up, rain splashing into my face. I had a raging fever by now and the cold night suited me fine.

The next morning I was up at the crack of dawn and I could manage to keep a cup of coffee down. It was still raining. I packed up and was ready to go. I made my way out of the cave and the jumble of rocks next to it, arriving at the top of the valley, a basin filled with marshland opening up in front of me. The basin was surrounded by very high hills. I started walking in the direction I thought I was supposed to go, and there was a foot path which I assumed was the one I needed to follow. On the other side of the basin I entered a valley and I realized that I was on the wrong track. I was headed towards the Minaret Pass and the Lesotho border which was now only 2.5 kilometers away from me. I turned around and made my way back to where I started. I crossed the stream in the marsh and made a sharp turn to the right, using the GPS unit to get a direction to the next way point. In front of me was a very high hill and it was very hard work getting up it to the top. However, when I arrived at the top, a plateau opened in front of me with small lakes all over between the rocks. It was a wonderland, extremely beautiful. I sat down to soak it all in. From my now high viewpoint, I could see across the valley and there was the Lakes District. Lakes were all over the area and it was stunning. I sat there thinking that the area would make a perfect camping spot for a few days on a hiking trip.

My gain in altitude was not yet over and the route forward was steep and the going hard. After a few kilometers I arrived at a marsh which was the source of the Pholela River. Not far away were the Pholela cave and the area which should have been my camp spot on day one. Due to my sickness I was about 7 kilometers behind schedule. Standing at Pholela cave I looked far down into the valley below. It was mystical and magical, an undisturbed wilderness.

From Pholela cave I had to make my way down to Spectacle cave, further down into the valley. The going was a bit easier now, losing some altitude and soon I arrived at the bottom of Spectacle cave. Believe you me, there is a very valid reason as to why this cave is named Spectacle cave. It is a spectacle indeed. It must be one of the most beautiful sights in the world. I had no time to go and explore the cave and I had to carry on. I made my way down to the river. Opposite me was a very narrow, forested valley of which the sides were lined with massive cliffs. I had no idea how hard and difficult the terrain was now going to become.

I fought my way down to the Pholela River and managed to find a safe place to cross. I entered the narrow valley in front of me where I had to yet again cross a stream to get onto the left hand bank. I was now navigating by GPS way points and I would establish a general direction to move forward to. I made my way past the Gorge cave and then I had to climb up the gorge cliffs to get to the top of it. I managed to find a stream coming down the side of the gorge and started to follow it through the thick bush. By now I was more crawling up the gorge than walking, holding onto tall grass to prevent myself from sliding back down the gorge. I literally crawled through a forest, making my way through on hands and knees. Getting out of the forest I was close to the top of the gorge. However, the mountains were not done with me yet. Thinking that the top of the gorge would lead me onto a plateau, I was sadly mistaken. Cresting the gorge I was faced with yet another, very steep hill which disappeared into the far horizon.

Slowly I made my way up this hill, one foot at a time. It was murderously steep and I was still sick with no real energy in me. But make it I will, there were no alternatives. So on and on we went, rest, walk, rest, walk, and rest again. I was getting closer and closer to the Fingall’s Rock area. With one mighty burst of speed I crested the hill, faced with a place of unbelievable beauty. It had the appearance of Jurassic Park and one could very well imagine dragons roaming here. I was at an altitude of about 2600 meters, standing on the flat summit of the hill I just climbed. I was now in an amphitheater, surrounded by peaks and hill towering into the air all around me. Far, far below me, a river made its way forward and down the mountain side. I was stupefied by what I was seeing. In front of me was a rock formation which I approached. It was right on top of a very high cliff face. After the previous few hours ordeal it was the perfect break spot and I took off my backpack with a sigh of relief. I sat down with my legs swinging free over the abyss below me. Once again I was at the top of the world. On the opposite side of the abyss a huge waterfall came tumbling down the cliffs, and two my left the white rushing water of a further 2 waterfall could be seen. It was a truly spectacular place and I was over awed by this creation of nature. It must be one of the most beautiful areas in the Drakensberg I ever came across. I was in the middle of the famed Giant’s Cup area, aptly named as the area is shaped like a cup. I was a few hundred meters short of the rim of the cup.

I took my map out and after some checking realized that at this stage I was about 2 days behind schedule and that I was never going to complete the hike in the allocated time. My illness and the severe terrain was playing havoc with my plans. Sitting there I realized that I had to make a call; carry on or end the hike. To carry on was not an option and I realized that I will have to shorten the hike and return to Cobham camp. There is never any shame in calling a hike; however there is big shame in carrying on when you know that you should stop. I can always redo the hike if I am alive, injured, or dead would end it all for me. I realized then that for the first time I was going to end a hike prematurely. Being so high up at altitude I thought that I might be able to get cellphone reception. It was my lucky day and I phoned and informed Jenny of the change in plans. I arranged with her to pick me up in 3 days’ time as I would need two full days to get back to the camp.

I looked around the area to find a place to camp for the night and which would have water close. In the distance, just off the summit I was standing on, On the side of the next big hill, in a small ravine, I noticed what looked like a small marsh and where I could find water. Whether it would have place for the tent I did not know. Picking up my equipment I dragged my weary legs in that direction to go and have a look. Arriving at the ravine I found myself in a little Garden of Eden. There were flowers all around and a small stream made its way down, creating a small waterfall. Right next to the waterfall was a level spot just big enough to pitch the tent. It was with an utter sigh of relief that I dropped my backpack. By now I was so tired that I just sat there for the next hour. Sitting there I got the feeling that if I lift my arms I could soar into the air with no effort and fly away through the spectacular beauty surrounding me. It was indeed very beautiful and yet again I felt privileged to be there.

I had a tiny spot on the hang of a mountain to cling to for the night. Being done for the day was a great relief and my body needed some time to repair itself. I was still very nauseas. Late that afternoon I prepared supper and forced myself to have something to eat. While forcing down some food I was sitting in this tall grass and beautiful flowers surrounding me, my feet inside a pool of ice cold, fresh mountain water just above my own private little waterfall. A match made in heaven. I retired to bed very early that evening, sick and very tired. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of rain drops on the tent. Listening to it for a while I drifted off to sleep again. My last thought was about how brilliant it was that you can set up home every night in the vast wilderness and have such a spectacular and different view every night.

The next morning it was still raining and a low cloud cover was lying on and inside Giant’s Cup. Standing in front of my tent I could look down onto the clouds, further adding to the surrealistic beauty surrounding me. After a cup of coffee I packed up and was ready for day 3.

Because of the low cloud cover and mist there was no visual reference points and I used the GPS unit to get a general direction to the next way point. It was going to be a very hard slog up the mountain to get to the top of the cup’s rim. I was going to go up the mountain and intersect the Masubasuba Pass path which goes to the escarpment and into Lesotho. It is a well-used path and I would do well to stay very vigilant once close and on the path.

Shortly after leaving my camp spot I arrived at 3 huge waterfalls, roaring like thunder and crashing into the pools below. It was so beautiful. The going was severe, the gain in altitude coming at a severe angle. After every 10 meters I had to take a rest, wiping the rain from my face. I was walking blindly in the mist as well. The ascent up the mountain seemed to last forever. I still had a fever and the nausea was stuck in my throat, and I barely kept vomiting in control. I suffered that morning getting up, but giving up or feeling sorry for myself does not exist in my book. I had somewhere to get to and by golly; I was going to get there! It helps to get small target areas to walk to rather than a long distance to complete. It makes life much easier. Also, my mind is in the here and now, the future is not important.

Out of the mist a ridge doomed and clearing it I saw a well-worn foot path in front of me. I sat down next to the path way to take a breather and to find my position on the map. After orientating the map, I saw that the path was indeed the one leading to the Masubasuba Pass and Lesotho was about 2 kilometers away from. All of a sudden, still busy with the map, I heard the sound of bells behind me in the mist. I know that the Basotho’s tie bells around the necks of their ponies and donkeys and that they use them as pack animals through the passes. Intently I listened and I could hear that the sound of the bells was coming towards me. I needed to get going and do so quickly. I did not want to have any surprise meetings with drug smugglers. Fortunately it was still raining and everything was still covered in mist and cloud at this altitude of 2 990 meters; so at least I could stay invisible for a while longer. Swinging my backpack on my back I turned to the right on the foot path which leads into the Gxaligenwa Valley.

I put some speed to my steps to increase the distance between myself and the bells. The going was so much easier now as the path now winds its way down towards the valley. I was walking through a misty landscape covered with marshes and streams. Soon I arrived at the neck of the valley where the Gxaligenwa River makes its way down to the land below. The angles of descent become very acute now and I had to prevent myself from automatically running. I have entered into a beautiful forested and bushy valley. I passed one beautiful waterfall after the other. On my left I noticed some huge boulders through the mist and as I approached I found myself standing right on the edge of a very deep gorge with the river cascading down into the bottom. It was a surreal world because of the ambiance that the mist created and at the same time because of the Jurassic Park like beauty of the gorge. It was as if I was transported back in time to the land of Narnia and at any time I could expect to see all wonderful and weird characters appearing. I was not able to get good photos of this place as it was raining hard and the mist prevented any such notions. It was as if this beautiful gorge was shyly hiding behind her curtain of mist, only to take a peek now and then before hiding again. Far behind me I heard the bells again and it was time to move on again.

The foot path was very narrow now, the deep gorge on my left and on my right the side of the mountain and high cliffs. I had to be very careful here as a bump against the face or a slip would see me tumble down into the depths of the gorge. I would be dead shall that happen. The path was also very slippery with all the rain and going downhill at a severe rate of ascent.

I had hardly started walking again when I smelled smoke. After a few days the human smells stand out like you will not believe. It becomes like a huge billboard advertisement right in front of your face. The sense of smell becomes very acute. I knew that it could not be a veld fire because it was so wet and it was still raining hard. It might be hikers who started a fire inside the Gxaligenwa Cave or Basotho smugglers using the valley I thought. In any case, I was sort of trapped. Behind me were the bells, in front of me the smoke from a fire. On my right was a huge mountain with high cliffs, and on the left a very deep gorge. I had nowhere to hide. I decided to move forward and at a careful, slow speed. The smell of the smoke increased and it was not long before I could see a plume of smoke in the distance. Whoever made the fire was not at the cave but on a rocky outcrop next to the river; it could therefore not be hikers as they would have walked to the cave which was very close to the source of the fire. It could only be Basotho’s and if so, they would either be smugglers or cattle rustlers. Honest Basotho’s would use Sani Pass which ran parallel to this valley a couple of kilometers away. Whoever was down here did not want to be seen.

The path way now winded down into the bottom of the gorge where it met up with the river. I was still looking for an escape route which would allow me to get around whoever was at the fire. But, at this stage there was none and the cloud cover and mist made it hard to see. Getting closer to the source of the smoke I took out the camera and used the zoom function in order to see what was cooking. On a flat, rocky area I could now see the fire and what look like one person in a black jacket lying next to it. I could not see anybody else. My choices of what to do were limited and I carried on with the path. A few meters on a high cliff forced the path to the left and into a forest of Ouhout which spans the river. I went down to the river and sat down next to it for a break and to consider my options. Inside this forest I would not be visible to anyone. I needed some energy as well and decided to have some crisps and an energy bar. It has been a hard day thus far.

Looking behind me I thought that I might be able to climb the cliff behind me and walk up to the cave, but this would put me on high ground and make me very visible for those at the fire. So that option was out. The opposite side of the valley was also not an option as it was too steep and consists mostly of vertical cliffs. I was not very far away from the area of the fire. I decided to cross the river; after taking off my boots, I waded through and followed the path into a swamp. I kept myself low to the ground, still without boots on. The grass in the swamp was very high and kept me hidden from view. Slowly I kept forward; I needed to see who was at the fire and how many of them. Should there be a problem, I will then move back to the river, put my boots on and try and make an alternative plan. I was in the middle of the swamp now, smoke in my nose and I was able to see the fire quite clearly. I could still only see the one person lying next to the fire. Using the camera I took a closer look. The person lying next to the fire was very neatly dressed and had a black leather jacket on. Still there was no one else in sight. Just as I placed the camera down, a tall figure covered in a blue Basotho blanket rose from next to the river below his friend, like a ghost out of the mist. Instinctively and without thinking I flattened myself and sank down low into the swamp. Adrenalin was now being flooded into my system. I saw the Basotho walk up some rocks to the top where he engaged into a discussion with the other person lying next to the fire.

What now I wondered? I had to come up with a plan. Watching them for a few minutes it was clear that there were only the two of them. It was obvious that the bells I heard earlier was goods being transported from Lesotho and the two of them were waiting for it. The guy with the leather jacket was obviously the South African buyer and contact person. Sitting there I decided that the only way out of this was forward and that I will have to think on my feet. Still sitting in the swamp I put my boots back on and then slowly got up.

They did not see me rise out of the swamp like a ghost. I stood there and saw that they have actually made their fire right next to the foot path on a rocky flat patch just before the path drops off down to the river. I could still see no way around them. I decided on a straight forward direct approached and started walking towards the river. I reached the river unseen. On the other side of the river, rocks created stony steps leading up to the 2 men on their rocky patch. I crossed the river and very forcefully walked up the steps towards them. As I cleared the last step, the Basotho heard me and turned around. The look of surprise and utter disbelieve on his face was quite comical and I would have laughed was it not such a serious situation. I was all alone with no weapon deep in a wilderness area without any help around.

I raised my hand in greeting and said ‘morning’ acting as if I was in a great hurry. I approached to within a meter of him and noticed that the Basotho was smoking a zol. ‘You want a cigarette I asked?’ The reply was yes and I gave him a full pack of cigarettes. ‘Ok, bye’ I said, breaking eye contact and moving away from them. I stopped again and as if in an automated process I turned around and without thinking said to them: ‘Oh, by the way, the rest of my group is just behind me, there are five of them. When they come past, if you are hungry, ask then for some food.’ The Basotho replied with a funny expression on his face: ‘Five?’ I said yes and started walking. Survival instinct told me to say those words to ensure my safety. Should they decide to attack me, it would be two against one and I also did not know whether they had fire arms. Should they attack, there will be no help; if they left me seriously injured, I would not be able to summon help. Should they kill me, they would be able to make me disappear forever in that wilderness. Nobody will ever find me.

I was filled with adrenalin and I knew that I had to put some serious distance between myself and them. I started walking at a furious rate, thanking Mother Nature for the low cloud cover and mist blanketing the environment around me. The area flattened out and there were no features into which I could disappear. I regularly watched my back to make sure that I am not being followed. I also knew that I had to get off this specific path as it leads directly towards the Sani Pass road, just a few kilometers away. After 3 kilometers I knew that the Emerald Stream valley was somewhere ahead of me to the left; I did a sharp turn left and increased my pace. If it was not for the blanket mist and cloud cover, they would still be able to seem me and the direction I moved in.

It started raining harder and the mist increased; it was as if Mother Nature was playing her part to keep me safe. The adrenalin fuelling my movement was still strong and I simply did not get tired which was amazing. I fell into a rhythm dragging me ever forward. After another 2 kilometers I arrived on a plateau, and in the distance huge, very huge boulders appeared through the mist as vague ghosts. On my left I noticed one that towers into the air like a pyramid. Giving another mighty push over the last 300 meters, I arrived at Pinnacle rock. At the bottom of Pinnacle rock is a shelter which was created by erosion over millions of years. I sought the shelter of the rock. I was soaking wet, apart from my upper body and it was freezing cold. The rain was coming down in a torrent. Sitting in the shelter of the rock I was out of the rain. I kept a watch on the way I came, but the mist was so heavy and low that I could not see anything. I was hoping that if the smugglers did follow me, that they would have assumed me taking the easier route down to Sani Pass road or to Ngenwa cave. I looked at my watch and realized that I have done just over 5 kilometers, through harsh terrain with a heavy backpack, in less than an hour! The human body is an amazing thing when fuelled by adrenalin. I should be reasonable safe now I thought.

Sitting there in the shelter of the rock I watched as Mother Nature gave a show. She would open the curtain slightly to reveal some monstrously big boulders, only to coyly close the curtain again. It was fascinating to watch.

My body started cooling down and it was time to move on. I needed some more distance between myself and the smugglers. The terrain became a bit easier to walk and I was approaching the area where Emerald valley starts. I walked into a big marsh where the Emerald stream has its origins. It was a beautiful area; tall marsh grass dotted the marsh and made navigation through the marsh difficult. On the other side of the marsh the valley dropped into the depths below and I had to circumnavigate a big waterfall where it cascades over a cliff. Moving to the left of the fall I made my way down the cliff face to the bottom of the fall. The valley now gently descends. By now exhaustion was setting in, my body still full of fever and nausea turning my insides up now and then. A kilometer into the valley I started looking out for a campsite. It had to be out of sight and off the valley floor. I was on the left side of the valley and looking up I saw a series of small hills leading up to a plateau. I could see the telltale signs of a small stream wandering down to the valley floor. I crawled up the hill hoping to find a flat hidden spot in between the small hills.

Cresting the hill in front of me, now about 404 meters up from the valley floor, I found the perfect spot for camp. It was a rocky outcrop and right next to a very small stream. People moving down the valley would not be able to see my tent, but I had a clear view of the valley. It was with great relief that I swung the backpack off my shoulders. I sat down leaning back against the backpack, resting and observing the world around me. At that moment the clouds opened up and for the first time that day the sun broke through. It was a glorious moment. I slowly started unpacking and pitched the tent; fetching some water from the stream close by. On the other side of the valley I could see the Emerald Dome. A mountain shaped like a dome, standing proudly on its own on the plateau.

I started preparing supper and even with the nausea I managed to have a hearty meal. The sun disappeared again and the rain started again. Getting inside the tent I sat watching the rain fall. I gave my sleeping bag one look and decided that that was the place to be, inside of it and getting warm. Getting out of my wet jeans, socks, and boots was a pleasure and soon I was in the sleeping bag, sipped up and waiting for the warmth to take over. My eyes started drooping as I lied there thinking about the day. What a day it was, what a trip so far it was! Life was good.

Just before I fell asleep, it barely being dark, I heard the telltale signs of an approaching thunderstorm. The rumble was low and fast approaching. A few minutes later lightning strikes turned the tent into a kaleidoscope of bright neon colors. This was all I needed right now, I thought. I was a bit concerned being so exposed high up and out in the open on a rocky outcrop. There was nothing I could do, but hope for the best. Eventually I covered my head with the sleeping bag and waited it out. Each thunderous roar and the sharp crack of lightning made me cringe and I tighten up into a smaller ball of flesh. Rain was hitting the tent hard and the storm intensified, bellowing out the fury of the dragon for all to see and hear. Eventually the storm moved down the valley and only the rain remained. I drifted off into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

The next morning the skies were clear and the sun was chasing the shadows out of the valley. The day dawned beautiful and bright, a glorious welcome to all. My fever racked body felt a bit better and soon I had the camp down and I was packed, ready to go.

It was now day four and the final stretch down to Cobham cap awaited me. Climbing down the hills back to the valley floor I started my last day in paradise. As I followed the stream down the valley I came upon one beautiful pool after the other, the perfect swimming spots for a tired hiker. It was still cold though and I stayed away from swimming. I entered yet another massive marshland area, struggling to make my way through the tall marsh grass. Needing to be very careful less I step into the underground water channels and break a leg. Mid-morning I arrive at the river crossing point I used previously on day walk trips. It was a beautiful spot for a break and to wave goodbye to the wilderness. I was now not far away from Cobham camp. Shortly I made my way past two stunning forests and I started gaining altitude to get to the top of the valley and to follow the ridge down to the Pholela River. Up on the ridge, I had a vast view and in the distance on the other side of the Pholela River I could see a herd of eland. There were quite a number of them and they looked so peaceful going about their business.

Instead of making my way down to the valley floor again, I stayed on the ridge and soon found myself at the end of the ridge, high up and standing on the edge of a massive cliff. Hard work would start again as I now had to find a way down to the bottom. Coming around one cliff I walked into to mountain reed buck. They had the fright of their lives, giving their peculiar whistled warning, jumping straight up into the air before taking off at great speed down the mountain and to disappear into the valley. It always amazes me at the speed with which the animals can move through this very uneven terrain without breaking a leg in the process. Making my way down ever so slow I came upon yet another beautiful waterfall, hidden away between the cliffs.

I could now see the Pholela River and after making my way through some very rough and uneven terrain, resulting in a stumble or two, I arrived at the river. At this point I could not cross the river and had to follow the Pholela River all the way to the swing bridge from where I could get into the camp.

About midday I walked into the camp site, my hiking trip at its end. I pitched the tent and started cleaning equipment. Jenny was to fetch me the next morning.

Later that afternoon I walked down to the ablution facilities as I needed a hot shower. I wash barefoot as my boots were still wet, I had no other shoes with me, and the manicured lawn was ideal for bare feet. 10 Meters from the ablution block, next to some apple trees, I was about to put my foot down, and for some unknown reason I kept the foot hanging in the air. Some pre-historic sense prevented me from completing the step, and, looking down, I gave a one legged jump back into the direction I came from. Right below my foot was a Berg Adder! I would have stepped right onto him and would have been bitten. The snake was just lying there, waiting for my next move. Just imagine, on a smooth lawn, in a campsite where you would least expect it, a snake lying in wait. This was only the second time that I have seen a snake in the Drakensberg Wilderness area. It was quite ironic finding the snake inside the camp area. I walk through some very wild and rough terrain in the wilderness, making my way through all sorts of terrain and through forest; you would expect to see and come into contact with snakes in that environment, which I never have.

So my adventure ended. Cut short because of illness. There is no shame in calling a hike. Rather be wise than stupid. Sometimes we have to listen to that inner voice talking to us. But, yet again I had a great adventure and a wander through Paradise.

I will be back to complete the hike as planned and not too far into the future.

The End.

Safe Hiking.