Musings on the Valley of Desolation

I recently read an article in Wild Magazine – the magazine to accompany the Wild Card that gets you entry into all the National Parks for a year. It had a picture of a baboon eating an animal it seemingly killed. I knew that baboons are omnivorous and are capable of murder when the need arises. Most people do think they only eat fruits and berries but the reason why we are told to keep away from these animals is exactly because of this – they ARE capable of killing!

My last post about the Valley of Desolation was just pictures – the stunning beauty of this geological formation required it. Getting those pictures was quite a mission in itself! The drive up to the valley – the actual “valley” is at the top of a mountain meaning the Valley of Desolation is actually what is below – is amazing. It’s a mountain pass cut in the 1920’s for the cost of around R2000. I’ve had arguments with people on the value of infrastructure especially roads and the way used to determine how much money a piece of road has generated. Seeing that since the 1920’s, several millions of people have driven up to the valley, I think it’s safe to say this road HAS made the municipality a fair share of money. Back to the road, it’s a breathtaking drive cut as close to the mountain as you can get. On the one side of the road –sheer rock face. On the other – a verge-less sheer drop. Put one tyre wrong and you are no more. No correspondence will be entered into. Luckily, the road is well-kept tar but yikes, the hairpin bends on nasty inclines test every driver. If you have no care for natural beauty, I suggest going up the mountain just for the drive.

Reaching the summit, I had the normal task of sun-chasing. I crave sunsets and well, I didn’t want to miss this one! The Valley of Desolation has several lookout points and a hiking trail that takes you to most parts of the summit. The summit is pretty big and the hike would normally take you almost an hour to complete. Seeing that I got there late, I ran up this superlatively rocky hiking trail with my off-road sandals that aren’t really meant for off-road use and my short sleeve t-shirt worn in the middle of winter. I got to the first lookout point, and was frozen in awe. I took quite a lot of pictures there and spent a great deal of time just sitting in silence admiring the wow. Oddly, for maybe 20 minutes, I was the only person there. I guess you could just call that perfect. However, the viewpoints’ placing meant that I would miss the sunset – a cardinal sin punishable by death. The hiking trail appeared to go to the far end of the summit. I ran. I approached a fork and took the path less travelled as the other led to the parking lot. Well, it appeared to be a path. I ended up with a magnificent view but alas, it was a dead end with thick tree cover with many crevices and no real view of the sunset.

I stood for a while admiring the view and figuring out what to do next. The quiet is pierced by the unmistakeable bark of a baboon. I’m in awe, yet again. That awe is interrupted by a second bark by the same baboon. This time, it’s closer. My brain jolts and I wonder whether there is a reason for the bark getting louder. The third is unmistakeably MUCH closer than the other two. A large grey speck appears in my field of view. It hits me. I bolt! I keep running through the non-path through undergrowth and low branches. I can hear the barks following me! At this point I am freaking out and going over situations in my mind. The baboon has the advantage of living in this wonder of nature and does know the area better than I do. I keep running whilst the baboon barks from the shadows. However, the intermittent barks aren’t getting louder – which is a good thing. By this time, I am on the path and my odds of escape are better. I get to the other side of the trail as the barks trail away. I encounter some people and everything is safe.

I did trespass on the kingdom of the emperor of this valley. It has been his to rule for many years – and before that, it was his ancestors that saw over this glorious land. When one enters his kingdom, one must respect the kingdom and its way of life. I got away and perched on a rock on the other side of the valley. In the distance, he still barked – signalling to all those in earshot that he is the true ruler.

You can’t leave the summit – especially whilst witnessing the extraordinary palette that the sky presents to you. The winter sky, however, erases all light with great swiftness. My new found friends and I make our way to the car park. Well, except, this doesn’t go as planned and we veer wildly off-path. The light disappears faster and faster but we eventually find a path. Jumping into my car, I face the splendour of the mountain pass with more failing light. Moreover, the scenery on the descent marvels the mind even more – the panoramic view of Graaff-Reinet at night was truly stunning. I reach the bottom safely – but by then, it is night. I think to myself about my horrifying experience (it was for me – don’t judge me!!!) at Hluhluwe a few years ago where we were in the park after dark with buck jumping over the car. All of a sudden, a magnificent Eland crosses the road in front of me, then another. I’m in awe, yet again. Two others are scared away by the light and I use this opportunity to get to the gate, which I got to just in time.

Chasing the sun around the Lake District

For some odd reason, the route around the Gariep Dam is called the Gariep Lake Route. As far as I know, a lake is a natural body of water whereas a dam is enclosed by a dam wall made of some sort of structure – be it man-made or made by beavers in North America. Whatever the reason, the drive around the dam is one of the most amazing drives in South Africa.

In 1971, a marvel that showcased South Africa’s engineering skill was opened. We’ll forget that the project was given to a French company for a moment as I tell you about the Hendrik Verwoed Dam (now called the Gariep Dam) – built in the Ruigte Valley; the dam wall stands 88m high and is almost a kilometre in length. The amount of enclosed water is staggering. Think of the distance from Amanzintoti to Verulam. Now think of how far apart Durban is from Pietermaritzburg. The mighty Gariep Dam is larger than this…

The round trip is a “tourist” circuit consisting of the R701, R390 and the R58. The circuit is quoted as being 134km long – I honestly feel it is much longer. The road is spectacular. It is a perfectly tarred masterpiece stretching out to the horizon in this most amazing land. The sleeping Free State greets the remnants of the magestic Maluti. Together, they dance and meet in this beautiful valley – a valley now that is pivotal in allowing millions of South Africans to quench their thirst and live.

The road is just great. I’ve thought long and hard on ways to describe it but I just can’t do it justice…The route starts outside Smithfield on the 70km or so drive to Bethulie passing the Tussen-die-Riviere Nature Reserve. On the way, I was greeted by maybe five potholes and probably the same amount of cars. Climbing over each hill is a signal for you to hold your breath. Emerging on the horizon is beauty that you have never experienced before. Go over the next hill and the beauty is outdone as the giant snake of the Gariep pulls you closer and closer. I’m sure those stunning posters of roads leading into mountains are taken here and not at the foot of the Appalachians and Rockies! Although a day earlier, I felt scared because of what unknown fears lurked on the sides of the N12 outside Kimberley, the fear of this road was far greater. In all its beauty, this road defined “alone…” A cry for help goes unnoticed and unheard. It is here where you truly experience yourself and your reality.

The Gariep has this natural sense of mystery, power and greatness. Starting in the Drakenberg, this river, also know as the Orange, is the lifeblood of South Africa. Downstream of the Gariep is another mega-dam, Vanderkloof, home to South Africa’s largest hydroelectric scheme. Even more downstream is the wonder of the Augrabie Falls. Further downstream is the river mouth at Alexander Bay. Here, the mighty Gariep releases her diamonds into the Atlantic. Visit Alexander Bay and you’ll see how important these diamonds are to people…

Anyway, the Gariep is home to an ambitious project. South Africa is a drought country – the water we have is precious and not abundant. Not a year goes by without warnings (that we don’t heed) about South Africa having serious water shortages within a few years. The Gariep has a water tunnel on its eastern shores that connects to the Great Fish River that nourishes the Eastern Cape. Its use is similar to the Lesotho Highlands Project at Sterkfontein Dam in KwaZulu-Natal – when water is sparse; it is transferred from the Gariep to the Great Fish to provide the province with water.

I’m a sucker for dramatics and I was hoping to experience awe at the first sight of water from the Gariep. This, obviously, never did happen. After a quick stop in Bethulie to offload, I set about remedying this by embarking on another infamous sun-chasing mission to capture the sunset over the Gariep. My destination lay 60km away on the south-eastern banks of the Gariep at a hamlet named Oviston. The R-roads are infamous for their lack of shoulders, cat eyes and fences. With knowledge of the cow incident still pretty fresh, I speed on hastily as the sun falls. It light bathes the land in a lazy orange that intensifies as the sun retreats more and more. I push on…

I reach Venterstad and soldier onto Oviston as the orange glow deepens. Looking back, darkness encroaches. I start to panic and wonder if I will make it in time. I (obviously) have never been to the Gariep before and I have no knowledge of the terrain that I will encounter at Oviston. I wonder what the view would be like and if this mad trip was worth it. I reach the town and the waters edge. On one side of the dam, the sun kisses the horizon with its most intense shade of orange. On the other is nature’s most beautiful view…

I sit on the rocky banks, perched on a rock gazing at this site. A heron calls from the distance as the sun extinguishes over the Gariep. I smile 🙂

I linger. In actual fact, lingering could spell my death. I have a half an hour drive back to Bethulie on a road strewn with cattle and untold creatures of the dam. Obligatory on all routes travelled at night is the car without lights. It amazes me how people travel with minimal vision. In this wilderness, the hazards multiply. I easily pass them and approach the Bethulie Bridge. I am home and safe – a relief. However, the Bethulie Bridge has something in store for me…

“Now that’s a Fire,” and other events that lead us to the Fish Eagle

A highly recommended attraction of Kimberley actually lies some twenty kilometres north of the city. Taking the N12 north, one takes the Riverton turn-off to get to, well, Riverton. Then, after what seems like forever along a road straighter than freshly GHD’d hair, here is where the Northern Cape Aquatic Sports Club is situated. It is also where the Oceanos was recovered and left.

Kershen has this pretty awesome friend named Rowen that I had the pleasure of meeting a few weeks ago whilst in Jozi. Rowen’s job is to be professionally awesome. He is probably the best in his field as well. 🙂 Anyway, Rowen has a boat. Boats are pretty cool. These marine contraptions have fascinated me for years. I never did get into the mechanics of their inner workings but nevertheless, travelling freely on the open water with the wind blowing in your hair is a great experience. My aim was to drive the boat. The aim never did materialise as I think they DEFINITELY have laws against driving whilst intoxicated. Also, if I make a mistake, we will tip over into the mighty Vaal to freeze to death like Leonardo Di Caprio did.

The Northern Cape is not renowned for its water. The solar potential of this province, however, is immense. Even in winter, the sun glares down on you with the intensity of summer anywhere else. The vast space available in the province gives promise to the renewable energy potential of the area. With the hopeful advances in solar technology and what is energy’s Holy Grail – energy storage, maybe one day our country’s electricity supply will come from the sun. Looking over at the mighty Vaal though, one would never guess that we had a water problem. Then again, crossing parts of the Amazon takes 30 minutes by commercial airliner. This river, I reckon I could swim across. Though I didn’t hazard trying – it being cold and all and all and all.

After a quick launch, Rowen took the boat for a spin. I’m pretty impressed with this picture. That boat was doing some speed and I managed to capture it pretty well. Kudos to my little Canon SX110 IS…

Riding shotgun in a boat is breathtaking – partly because the resultant wind does not allow much air to enter your nose successfully. This icy cold breeze cleans your face of all the pollutants brought on it by our modern, industrial lifestyle and allows you to become one with this natural beauty. Vegetation lines this mighty river as far as the eyes can see whilst the animals faunacate on the branches, in the air, on the ground and in the depths.

A boat is not a boat unless it has 6×9’s in them. Our boat did. Classic rock, a dop and the Mother Nature makes for a great life.

As we laze, floating down the mighty Vaal, the sun leaves the sky as gloriously as a phoenix. The river shimmers whilst attempting to reflect the grandeur of the sun. I sit back, close my eyes, and smile.

It’s pretty hard sailing at night. I wonder if sailing is the right word here seeing that we had no sails! Anyway…Man must make fire. Man must eat. We made fire. We ate. It rained. The fire was a Man’s fire. That pitiful rain stood no chance! Bwahahaha! It did rain pretty heavily though. Rain in winter is cold. Man solves this with Brandy. I did not feel cold. Whenever Rowen stepped into the rain, it seemed to rain harder. I should warn him to go check out his karma – apparently your local GP can do this along with your normal check-up.

The night was hectic. Apart from questionable hygiene, the night took its toll in other ways as well. My eyes were eaten by a savage beanie. Kershen lost his hand to a Corsa Diesel. I must say he did show good form by not spilling his dop. Kudos to Kershen…

Back on the river on this glorious morning, we see the sights that were rather dark last night. Kimberley also has a meteorite crash site. Scientists have studied this area alongside the Vaal River and attributed the rock formations to a meteor strike sometime in the past. It’s not a hugely impressive site but maybe this is where all the diamonds came from – OUTER SPACE! Booyah!

As with all Apartheid creations, the riverside resort of Riverton is partnered with a resort for the oppressed. Named Langley, the area where it is situated is actually better than Riverton with a flat piece of land cleared to allow for easy picnicking whereas Riverton’s picnic spot is built on a slope. Apartheid infrastructure: FAIL. We did discuss and deduce that the Apartheid planners probably got sick of the flat Platte land all over Kimberley and added this slope for a bit of excitement.

Dams aren’t the only ways water is collected from the river. There are two huge towers sticking out the Vaal that collect water and provide it to the town and surrounds. Kimberley is not small – it has over 300 000 residents yet this method provides ample supply. There are shock stories about the supply though with bodies being found in reservoirs and the like. I still drank the water – impurities and bacteria are a way of life and bottled water just makes you more of a sissy. I’m still not drinking the water in India though! Anyway, apart from the swallow nests, one can see a few holes about two-thirds the way up the tower. This is the overflow and either in 1998 or 1988 (I know there was an eight somewhere in the year); the river was so high that these were covered.

Even the breathtaking sunset of the previous evening could not come anywhere close to what happened as we sailed down river. Atop a branch in yonder distance, I spot a large brown bird perched and watching the world. It majestically takes of and flaps its graceful wings as it sails across the blue sky. It lets out its call – next to the lion, Africa’s most powerful and unmistakeable call. I witness the Flight of the Fish Eagle. I close my eyes and take this in. And I smile…