The Oorlogskloof Nature Reserve is located on the huge plateau of the Bokkeveld Berg above the small town of Vanrynsdorp in the Northern Cape. The area is dominated by the 200m thick crevassed, cracked and twisted sheet of sandstone reminding the hiker that this was the bottom of some prehistoric lake or sea.

Jana, Jimmy and I planned to hike the Kransduif route, a 50 km trail which effectively circumnavigates the reserve in 5 days. Though the reserve is a wilderness by all effective definitions of the word, the wardens have gone to some lengths to make the hiker comfortable. At all designated campsites, 5 tents are set up, each sleeping 3 people, with 3 inch thick mattresses for added bonus. We would be hiking in late summer so finding water would be of primary concern. Even the Oorlogskloof river, which in spring is difficult to cross due to the amount of water rushing down, was bone dry and water availability reduced to sporadic pools of green, stagnant water. Fortunately, the guide map is marked with the location of permanent water sources, so as long as one follows the designated route, and carries enough water to satisfy one?s daily requirement, the water problem is not a "show-stopped". Though Jimmy and Jana seemed unconcerned with drinking the available water straight, I?m a little more paranoid and hence my Katadyn water filter was put to good use.

DAY 1: Groottuin to Brakwater - 4km

We arrived at the start of the trail, at Groottuin, at around 1pm. There wasn?t another car in the car park which was a good sign; we?d have the whole trail to ourselves. The day was already hot and though the guide warned that we should be prepared for all extremes of weather, I decided to take my chances and leave my rain gear in the car. Jana laughed at me, threatening to conjure up rain. The trail starts out rather unimpressively by winding along what seems to be a featureless plateau adorned by a single small clump of birch trees. I started having visions of a death march through a mind numbing desert. I was relieved therefore when we reached the edge of a valley and proceeded to hike down into it. However rather than following the valley floor, the trail vaults up the other side and passes the hiker over numerous boulder fields and down and through numerous cracks, and tunnels in the sandstone substrata.

Though the distance to the first campsite at Brakwater was only 4 kms, it took us almost 3 hours to cover. In retrospect, it proved to be an effective summary of the types of terrain we would be travelling over in the next 4 days, and emphasizes the reasons why this area is not more frequented; it?s tough, hot, and requires lots of hard work to achieve the fruits of one?s labours. But the fruits are well worth the labours, especially when meditating on a sweeping vista from the top of a sandstone cliff, or contemplating the fascinating and infinitely random sandstone sculptures, tunnels, caves, cracks and kloofs. The vegetation consists of some of the best examples of fynbos I have seen, with about 2 dozen plant types being represented; 4 different species of protea, several types of reeds and grasses, a number of aromatic and hardy succulents, and of course half-a-dozen species of thorny shrubs, the most annoying of which is the "wag-?n-bietjie bos" which asks any hiker brushing past it to "wag net ?n bietjie" as it?s curved, forward pointing spines dig into one?s clothes and skin.

As would prove to be the case with all campsites in the reserve, Brakwater camp is invisible until one is literally right on top of it. It was completely deserted and the adjacent river had a couple of swimming pool sized holes filled with water. Except for the barking of troupes of baboons on the surrounding cliffs, the gentle breeze blowing through the trees, and the singing of the occasional bird, we were enveloped in silence. I spent about an hour observing a troupe of baboons on the adjacent hillside, about 200 metres from me. As would prove to be a common pattern, a sentry was always posted who would warn the rest of the feeding and cavorting troupe of potential dangers

We selected two tents, prepared dinner and then spent some time staring up at the black night sky before retiring at around 9pm.

At around 1am, the silence was however rudely shattered by loud shouting and cursing coming from the trail leading down to the camp. Several poor souls, who?d apparently hiked the 4kms from Groottuin in the dark, were lamenting the difficulty of the trail. I was out of my tent and waiting for the first of the party to arrive, and asked him to please keep down the noise. He ignored me. Jana was also out of the tent by this time and the rest of the party of seven had also slogged down the hill. This group represented perfectly the stereotype of the ugly Afrikaner. With complete disregard for the other people they would be sharing the campsite with, they proceeded to tromp through the camp trying to find the other three tents; they found one. "Waar?s die braai hout? Waar?s die water?" [Where?s the firewood? Where?s the water?] Jana, quite angry by this time, proceeded to read them the rules about no fires, and no disturbing or disruptive behaviour. One of the party told her he also had that piece of paper, effectively telling her to shove it. They were here to drink, party and carry on as if this piece of wilderness was set aside for them and no one else. They continued complaining to one another, apparently oblivious to the fact that we could all understand Afrikaans and hear every word they were saying. "We were told we?d be the only ones here!" "Where?s the water." They continued in vain trying to find the load of fire wood which was apparently left for them, even though no fires are allowed. Go figure. At this point one of the party decided that since "the contract" had been broken, he would take it upon himself to rectify the situation and find his own firewood, by tearing down trees. At this point one of the party intervened, and managed to calm the rest down and they retired to their sleeping bags, still grumbling that there were supposed to be five tents and this sleeping on the ground business was an insult to their superior afrikanerhood. We surmised at this point, by the amount of beer being consumed, that they were carrying no water, were carrying about a six-pack of beer each, two litres of hard "witblitz" and enough raw meat, with the intention to braai it of course, to feed Cromwell?s army for a week. If they bitched about the last 4 kms, there was no way in hell that in their condition they would enjoy the next 4 days of hiking. The thought of spending the next 3 nights in the company of these Neanderthals was quite repulsive. We figured that the real reason they were out here was not to hike, though their machismo would take a major blow if they didn?t at least give it a go, but to drink copious amounts of beer and to braai their beasts away from style-cramping wilderness and solitude lovers like us. For this reason we imagined, and hoped, that tomorrow they would either turn back, or would stay put for several days.

At around 6am rain started falling. Jana later said that Jimmy turned to her, grinning from ear to ear, and said "Yes, there is a god!" Jana replied "Don?t mess with Jana!" The hairless baboons started stirring and grumbling. They still hadn?t found the other two tents, literally right under their noses (we would have been happy to tell them where they were, but they didn?t ask nicely) and were now lamenting our "selfsigtigheid" [selfishness] -- the irony of calling us selfish apparently hadn?t occur to them -- and threatening to make Jimmy, Jana and me share a tent. I was quite prepared to ask them why they wanted my tent when there we two other tents "right over there". But the rain wasn?t heavy, and it stopped fairly quickly shortly before day break. At this point, the three of us rose and started making our own noise, forcing the baboons to wake also, after at most 3 hours of sleep. Revenge is sweet. They again proceeded to crack beers, lamenting the lack of water for their whiskey. They had found the water hole by this time, but refused to drink it -- again, they apparently had no purification equipment. One of the machomen started yelling that he found a litre of dishwashing detergent in his pack. Apparently his wife, who wasn?t on the hike, had packed his pack (since that?s a woman?s job) and was probably getting back at her husband for going out to drink with his buddies.

To complete my final disgust with this troupe, they remained true to their word and started gathering deadwood and made a fire. How they planned to use these twigs to make a fire hot enough to grill their meat, I have no idea, but I imagine that the moment we left they would attack the live trees themselves. One of the knuckle draggers started yelling that he refused to carry his trash back out and proceeded to burn it, cardboard boxes, plastic, etc., on the fire. IN A WILDERNESS!!!! Needless to say, we were not unhappy to part company. Jana asked me what my friend Kimberley, the state park ranger back in California, would have done if she?d come across a troupe of idiots like these (I?d shared with Jana Kim?s Skillsaw story) and I replied that Kim would have exercised her peace officer prerogative and merely shot the poor bastards.

DAY 2: Brakwater to Driefontein - 8km (12km)

The trail then leaves the gorge and climbs back up to the cliff, about 1000? above, the location of the second campsite at Driefontein. From the base of the cliff the view was spectacular, with the gorge stretching out in both directions. In the shade of the sandstone blocks, sitting on a ledge with an overhang above us, I marvelled at the infinite randomness of the sculptures. Mother nature is at her most beautiful when man doesn?t try to bend her, and twist her in his image, but instead permits her to weave her timeless, random art at her own pace. A light rain started falling, but not wetting the hot ground much. The smell of rain on heated sandstone, while staring down in silence into a river valley, from a perch high on top a sandstone cliff has to be a manifestation of heaven.

Instead of climbing the cliffs, which we would have to descend again the next morning, and staying at the waterless Driefontein camp, we decided to continue on down the trail to the river and camp in the soft sand. From our perch, we could see several pools so finding water would not be a problem. This plan had the additional advantage that should the Neanderthals actually make it out this far, they would needless be staying at the tented Driefontein. Fortunately, we never saw them again.

I was carrying a two-person tent, so the plan was for me to sleep in the tent and Jana and Jimmy to sleep under the stars. Should it start raining in the night, we would then try to squeeze into my tent. Jana again made good on her treat to make it rain, since I was brash enough to tempt fate and leave my rain gear in the car, but again the rain was light and short-lived. By morning the sky had cleared and would stay that way for the rest of the hike.

DAY 3: Driefontein to Doltuin - 12km (24km)

The guide book states that at this point the trail should level out and meander near the edge of the plateau. Again the author show his ignorance of vocabulary, as again there was nothing gentle about this meandering. The trail takes the hiker through a seemingly endless series of kloofs, up and down, annoying little chasms which again mask the accomplishment of forward progress.

Just before the final descent into the valley in which Doltuin camp was located, we filled our water bottles at a water hole. The last time Jana and Jimmy had done this hike, they failed to fill their bottles here and ended up running dry at Doltuin, since they failed to find water there. They wished not to repeat that experience.

The guide book talks of a seasonal water hole about a kilometre to the west of Doltuin, and a seep in the cliffs about half-a-kilometre to the north. While Jimmy and Jana explored the water hole, I climbed a prominent rock to the south and watched the action in the valley below. Wild donkeys were supposed to roam in the valley, and though we could hear them braying at the far end, we couldn?t see them. Several troupes of baboons foraged on the cliffs on the far end, the sentry barking out periodic warnings of a strange primate walking on two legs (crappy climbers these two legged ones) clad in slightly soiled white and green fur observing them from the other side of the valley. This one didn?t seem threatening, but the two walking in the valley below might be.

Jana and Jimmy returned "empty bottled". "This is destined to be a dry camp" Jana said. With a more exploratory attitude then with any real hope of finding water, I meandered over to the northern cliffs but the seep was completely dry. Even the moss clinging to the sides of shaded spills was is a sorry state. But we had enough water, and Jimmy was excited that Bullybeef and potatoes was on the menu. For those readers unfamiliar with Bullybeef (or corned beef) think Spam. I decided to pass (my experience with Spam sushi was enough to turn my stomach) and dined from the top of my pack; spiral pasta in a creamy tomato and garlic sauce and tuna.

DAY 4: Doltuin to Pramkoppie - 14km (38km)

The guide book shows a permanent water hole about 3 kms west of Doltuin. We found it, a foul smelling, disgusting looking pool of brown water under the cover of shrubs. "OK. Where?s the next water" Jimmy asked, initially repulsed by the smell of the stuff. However, after passing a litre of the stuff through my Katadyn, it didn?t look or taste that bad. It did have a mild sulphur smell, but the taste was OK. The suspended silt in the water however was a bit of a problem for my filter. Even though we pre-strained it through four layers of cloth, I ended up cleaning the filter twice while pumping our daily requirement of 8 litres. There would be no more water for the next 11kms, so hydration at this point was important. By the time we reached Pramkoppie camp, I was completely out and was feeling "about a quart low".

The next 11kms would be more "meandering" through sandstone kloofs, the variety of the sandstone sculptures and numerous arches (leopard lairs) we passed through making it my favourite day. At one point, the trail comes right up to the edge of the plateau and one can see 2000? straight down the escarpment to the Knersevlakte (early travellers were said to gnash their teeth in frustration while crossing these desolate, bone dry plains), a moonscape extended as far as the horizon. From the cool of the sandstone cliffs, with the wind blowing upwards from the plains, the desolation look morbidly beautiful.

Pramkoppie campsite is located in a wild olive grove at the bottom of a small valley. A jeep trail connecting it to Groottuin allows the rangers to leave water for hikers, a service without which the hike would be quite miserable since there was no water to be found for miles. When we arrived, my only thought was "if they haven?t left water, we are honestly and truly buggered". We would survive the remaining 8 kms to Groottuin tomorrow without water, but it would be miserable. Fortunately, the rangers had left 2 huge barrels of water, and though it tasted soapy and sweet (typical brakwater, well water saturated with calcium minerals) we were all thankful for it, gulping down copious mouthfuls.

DAY 5: Pramkoppie to Groottuin - 8km (46km)

More of the same, though less of it. The trail initially took us to the top of a plateau. I was a little in the lead when I came face to face with a black western spitting cobra, or rather an adolescent of the species. I was climbing up an inclined rock when not more that 2 feet from my face I saw a snake like critter rearing up. Realizing it was a cobra (it was just beginning to puff up its hood) I literally jumped back about a foot and froze. The hood was about 3 inches long and about an inch wide, and I?m guessing that it wasn?t more than two feet long -- a little guy. It slowly slithered back into it?s lair, constantly keeping an eye on me. Snakes don?t normally attack without reason, and if one heeds their warnings they will leave you alone. After my heart rate returned to normal, I continued climbing, appreciative of the encounter. A cobra eh? Cooooolll!!!!!

This was to be the day for uncommon wildlife encounters. Some time later, while walking along a plateau, Jana was "attacked" by a rather angry looking and threatening badger. With arched back, and tail pointing straight up, it came charging at her making angry hissing and growling noises. Jana thought it was about to attack her, and was getting ready to drop her pack and run, when it disappeared down a hole about a meter in front of her. The poor guy was probably terrified, and its "attack" was really a desperate attempt to get back to the safety of its hole.

The rest of the hike was pretty uneventful, except for the disappointment we felt at not finding the chimney marked on the map. By the time we returned to Groottuin, the "troupe" had long since departed, their footprints being at least a day old. I guess they drank all their beer, and decided that they really weren?t up for hiking any further, particularly with us "cramping" their style. Pipsqueak was there, intact and unharmed. The thought that the Neanderthals would injure her had crossed our minds. A crumpled Castle beer can lying under a tree was the last unpleasant reminder of our encounter with them.

Armchair musings

On the last hike I did, in Henry Coe state park in California, I had finally blown out my trusty Vasque Skywalker boots. Since they never fit perfectly (my feet are wide and Vasques tend to run narrow) I wasn?t too upset with their passing. Before I left for South Africa I purchased a pair of lightweight leather REI branded Raichle boots. They are wide and proved to be the most comfortable boots I have ever worn. I?m in love! Except for the reoccuring small painless blisters on the underside of my second toes, probably caused by toes bunching when walking downhill, the boots did nothing but caress and soothe my feet. The softish rubberized soles are great for walking up steep sandstone inclines, though they do take a wearing.

The Oorlogskloof nature reserve rivals Henry Coe state park as some of the most rugged and toughest hiking I?ve done, but like Henry Coe, once you?re out there, you?ll be alone. For me that?s a major draw and motivation for "working" that hard.

60 lbs in a pack is TOO MUCH. It?s bearable on a 5 day hike, but on an extended hike it would become more an anchor than a pal. I really need to work hard to reduce my pack weight down to a more reasonable 40 lbs. One of the items I could do without is a tent. My two-person Walrus weighs only 4 pounds, but my Cascade Designs bivy sack, which would do in most cases where emergency protection against the elements would be required, weighs only one pound. A mattress would be the next item to go. My lightweight Thermarest weighs only a pound-and-a-half, but that?s a pound-and-a-half too much. In "The Pacific Crest Trail handbook" the author talks about how he managed to reduce his total equipment weight (minus food and water) to 21 lbs, by careful selection and planning. So it can be done.

Much to my dismay, I seem to be an REI poster boy, as almost every item of equipment I own is branded or bought at REI. My pack and boots are REI branded, my cook set and stove are MSR (owned by REI), tent is Walrus (also owned by REI), mattress is Cascade Designs (owned by guess whom), etc. etc. REI should be paying me for advertising. Either that, or I should be employed as an equipment tester. Now there?s an ideal job. If one?s work IS hiking and cycling, would work still get in the way of hiking and cycling?

Addendum: Feedback from the Ranger

Jana wrote me later that she had called the rangers and complained about our less-behaved fellow hikers. She writes:

Apparently the whole thing was a misunderstanding. :) He told them they could braai the first camp meaning where you park the cars. They got there and started looking for water, you know there is a spring very near to the carpark.  Anway they didn't find it and got to the bottom of the valley where there is a water sign but the water has dried up so they decided to continue to Brakwater it was after all close only 4.7 kms. :), they hadn't found out about the terrain or details about where to get water. The warden says people normally phone and speak to him but they didn't. So when they eventually got to Brakwater the group was very annoyed with the "organisers" the woman and her brother.  The next day they decided thay had had enough, I mean it was a shit place, no fires no water and pretty strenuous. They also apparently mentioned that they didn't want to spend the next five days with "me". :) Anyway they are now on the rangers blacklist.