BACK WITH A BUMP & DOWN HELLS KLOOF
BACK WITH A BUMP & DOWN HELLS KLOOF
After such a long break from the farm it was a bit of a shock to return, not that there was much amiss except for the lack of rain, a great lack of rain, and naturally I blame Bush and Mugraby. The dam in front of the lodge though substantially larger than before, is still only half full. I’m not betting that it will fill this year, ‘Lake Berchy’ is almost full, but the dam below that is still sad, while ‘Three springs dam’ is a triumph, the reticulation to the top of the farm is perfect and my math’s was good so why am I so hmmmm?
I reproach Bush & Mugraby, obviously, amazing what a couple of brain deader’s in ‘office’ can do!
Some many years ago when the Rand was cheap and life was simple we purchased a piece of rock, weeds and vermin that was also completely inaccessible known as ‘Hells Kloof’. This fetures the old pass road down to the Komati from the high veldt and drops through some of the last extant Yellow wood gorge forest which I have been trying to go down for quite a while, but for which, companions have been hard to persuade as it is steep, overgrown and a little scary, being about 400 meters from top to bottom. But the new partner still has the enthusiasm of the recent convert and volunteered himself and girl friend as my victims.
We tried once with a larger party but after tormenting us with impenetrable wattle groves that choke the head of the pass and scratch and tear at all who would go by, the consensus was that such an expedition requires more preparation than grabbing a stick and camera.
So a week or two later with special rope, from the climbers shop, picnics, coffee in the thermos and stout boots strapped to the tootsies we tried again.
This time we tried to bypass the wattle to little avail, but managed to get through after some swearing to have the indigenous forest open before us with all the wonders that had been advertised.
The stream that I like to claim as all my own work (due to our eradication program that now allows it to flow all year) gurgled and tinkled through a wonderland of soaring great trees, many meters high that held a spectacle of orchids and other magic stuff in its branches and roots, causing all the commensurate, oohing and ahhing.
Down the water course we went past magical crystal clear pools but after too short a spell of reasonable going we came to a section that looked very intimidating, climbers rope or not, I decided to try to go around, being of a mind to not kill my partner at this early stage of the affair and before we knew what was what we were forced by steep steep slopes and thick thick bush away from our chosen path and had to battle the grass lands. Still scary steep and seemed to go on forever.
I started to truly appreciate the trials and tribulations of intrepid explorers who did not enjoy the comforting thought that help was but a call away. Not only were we not going through the gorge as planned but also every time we broached a rise thinking that we were but a step away from our destination the planet got larger and the walk longer, I as the beloved leader was I must admit getting a little concerned as my companions and faithful followers were my responsibility and I was concerned that I was leading them into doom and perdition. It was hot and tiresome to battle through what from a distance looked like pleasant pastures, but on closer investigation proved to be quite the opposite. In fact the tune ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen’ was shrill in my mind as Howard started to fade from lack of water, heat and exhaustion, his boots which had been made by hand with great love some time ago, of which he was inordinately proud were also less than satifactory, proving to be more decorative than functional.
It really was very far and steep, many parts being only negotiable on the third foot, namely sliding down on ones backside. So I did what any sensible leader would do, I deserted my soldiers to fend for themselves as best they could while I continued down on my own to send up reinforcements to fetch them while I soaked the aching limbs in the dam.
This was not the triumph that I had hoped for, though we did get from top to bottom, we had failed to negotiate the actual gorge itself, which had spat us out with contempt, so there is still virgin territory to explore next time, which I think I will try to go up rather than down.
Since then much water has passed under the bridge but little has flowed into my dam and the reports of down pours everywhere else has started to make me feel that I am being picked on. We have got ourselves a nice old tractor a ford to which has a bit more grunt than the old ‘Val Japie’ which has been relegated to being a mower and people porter, in fact after so much strain planting grass the inevitable has now occurred and I am forced to invest real money in cutting it, in fact what with the cows becoming such a presence on the farm, I find myself consumed by the state of my pastures and have even built a haystack, so that is another one to tick off the list of things to do in this life, I now just need to find someone to roll in it with me. Ever hopeful.
After such a long break from the farm it was a bit of a shock to return, not that there was much amiss except for the lack of rain, a great lack of rain, and naturally I blame Bush and Mugraby. The dam in front of the lodge though substantially larger than before, is still only half full. I’m not betting that it will fill this year, ‘Lake Berchy’ is almost full, but the dam below that is still sad, while ‘Three springs dam’ is a triumph, the reticulation to the top of the farm is perfect and my math’s was good so why am I so hmmmm?
I reproach Bush & Mugraby, obviously, amazing what a couple of brain deader’s in ‘office’ can do!
Some many years ago when the Rand was cheap and life was simple we purchased a piece of rock, weeds and vermin that was also completely inaccessible known as ‘Hells Kloof’. This fetures the old pass road down to the Komati from the high veldt and drops through some of the last extant Yellow wood gorge forest which I have been trying to go down for quite a while, but for which, companions have been hard to persuade as it is steep, overgrown and a little scary, being about 400 meters from top to bottom. But the new partner still has the enthusiasm of the recent convert and volunteered himself and girl friend as my victims.
We tried once with a larger party but after tormenting us with impenetrable wattle groves that choke the head of the pass and scratch and tear at all who would go by, the consensus was that such an expedition requires more preparation than grabbing a stick and camera.
So a week or two later with special rope, from the climbers shop, picnics, coffee in the thermos and stout boots strapped to the tootsies we tried again.
This time we tried to bypass the wattle to little avail, but managed to get through after some swearing to have the indigenous forest open before us with all the wonders that had been advertised.
The stream that I like to claim as all my own work (due to our eradication program that now allows it to flow all year) gurgled and tinkled through a wonderland of soaring great trees, many meters high that held a spectacle of orchids and other magic stuff in its branches and roots, causing all the commensurate, oohing and ahhing.
Down the water course we went past magical crystal clear pools but after too short a spell of reasonable going we came to a section that looked very intimidating, climbers rope or not, I decided to try to go around, being of a mind to not kill my partner at this early stage of the affair and before we knew what was what we were forced by steep steep slopes and thick thick bush away from our chosen path and had to battle the grass lands. Still scary steep and seemed to go on forever.
I started to truly appreciate the trials and tribulations of intrepid explorers who did not enjoy the comforting thought that help was but a call away. Not only were we not going through the gorge as planned but also every time we broached a rise thinking that we were but a step away from our destination the planet got larger and the walk longer, I as the beloved leader was I must admit getting a little concerned as my companions and faithful followers were my responsibility and I was concerned that I was leading them into doom and perdition. It was hot and tiresome to battle through what from a distance looked like pleasant pastures, but on closer investigation proved to be quite the opposite. In fact the tune ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen’ was shrill in my mind as Howard started to fade from lack of water, heat and exhaustion, his boots which had been made by hand with great love some time ago, of which he was inordinately proud were also less than satifactory, proving to be more decorative than functional.
It really was very far and steep, many parts being only negotiable on the third foot, namely sliding down on ones backside. So I did what any sensible leader would do, I deserted my soldiers to fend for themselves as best they could while I continued down on my own to send up reinforcements to fetch them while I soaked the aching limbs in the dam.
This was not the triumph that I had hoped for, though we did get from top to bottom, we had failed to negotiate the actual gorge itself, which had spat us out with contempt, so there is still virgin territory to explore next time, which I think I will try to go up rather than down.
Since then much water has passed under the bridge but little has flowed into my dam and the reports of down pours everywhere else has started to make me feel that I am being picked on. We have got ourselves a nice old tractor a ford to which has a bit more grunt than the old ‘Val Japie’ which has been relegated to being a mower and people porter, in fact after so much strain planting grass the inevitable has now occurred and I am forced to invest real money in cutting it, in fact what with the cows becoming such a presence on the farm, I find myself consumed by the state of my pastures and have even built a haystack, so that is another one to tick off the list of things to do in this life, I now just need to find someone to roll in it with me. Ever hopeful.
posted by Francis at 9:43 PM
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