I guess it will always require some degree of effort to reach the highest point of anything. If that thing is a whole country, it’s probably worth considering that the effort might match the significance.
So it was with Mafadi Peak, the highest point in South Africa at 3 450m, on the border of the Mountain Kingdom.
We started off our Easter weekend adventure with a few days of luxury chilling in Zimbali, stocking up on supplies from the Ballito lifestyle centre and generally just catching breaths and drinking bubbly for breakfast after a busy first few months of the year. Syncing Garmin maps with AllTrails routes in preparation for a great adventure.
The drive to Injisuthi from Durban is about 3 hours (requiring a high-clearance vehicle for the last stretch of the road, or a rental car …). Midway Family Stop offers a well-positioned and neat comfort break for coffee (ask for a triple shot, though) and take-aways just off the N3 near Estcourt. The colourful kosmos put on a delightful show, as we negotiated a right of way with herds of cattle.
The accommodation at Injisuthi camp is perfect for either a long-weekend away or to overnight before and after a hike. The electricity comes on intermittently with a generator, and there is a degree of wifi to get some news out to the world close to the reception. Only some of the houses have plugs, so rather make sure there are charged battery banks in the group. The appliances and the shower geyser run on gas. Lovely sprawling lawns, towering trees and all the views. Comfy beds. Plenty of day hikes if that is more your inclination than heading off into the wilderness …
Day 1 – Injisuthi basecamp to Centenary Hut
Garmin stats: 10.95 km, 926 m elevation gain, sleeping at 2 301 m. Max heart rate: 175 bpm (steady on, now).
The hike starts off with a scenic undulating meander (euphemism for get-the-hell-up-that-hill-you-lazy-ass) and a river crossing or two. It is a stunning introduction to the valleys and views that would unfold further. Getting used to the weight on your back again (a 19kg backpack can literally hurl you down a mountain if you misstep slightly and forget the counterbalance effect – been there, almost died, a few times).
This was my first Drakensberg immersion, and the scale of the drama is captivating. We ventured through the self-christened “vallei van die vlinders” and “vallei van die verkleurmannetjies” – delighted by die chameleons and butterflies, also dodging a troop of baboons. Still in Kansas, Dorothy.
Then came Heartbreak Hill. The elevation gain is sudden and relentless, and we met the infamous afternoon KZN thundershowers. Lightning and mountain escarpments and humans with metal hiking poles. Those are the headlines of news stories of how people leave this earth. Mercifully there are no direct hits and we reached Centenary Hut drenched, and to a degree exhilarated by the physical challenge of overcoming a steep elevation gain in torrential downpour. We met up with a group from Joburg whom we would be sharing the rest of the adventure with.
Centenary Hut is a bit of an oversell of the word hut. It is a brick structure with a roof that at least offers some rain shelter, with the metal skeletons of bunk beds. Unfortunately it is dirty and rundown. I pitched my tent inside. Its saving grace is the Pierneef-painting views, when the clouds and mist allow a glimpse. There is a small stream about 200m away for fresh water. (For a safety check: Some of the team managed to get some signal from the rocks behind the hut.)
Day 2 – Centenary Hut to Upper Injisuthi Cave
Garmin stats: 12.4km, 1 200 m elevation gain, sleeping at 3 314 m. Max heart rate: 161 bpm (altitude getting in on the game).
The morning starts off with Protea coffee and Futurelife Oats, made fancy with Woolies dried blueberries and a Buttanut sachet. Just enough fuel to make it up the first rude incline, and enjoy the 3 km meandering nature of the day 2 start, with its glimpses of scenery from Lord of the Rings. The whole thing turns Amathola-level-extreme on you from Judges Pass. There’s no polite way of saying it. It’s a brutal up, requiring all limbs and stamina reserves, navigating some slippery scrambling, trying not to allow the backpack’s tendency to pull you back, kill you as you plummet to your demise. Towards the upper ridges, the craggy rock faces and waterfalls plunging into the valleys below provide some degree of scenic reward for extreme physical effort. The effects of altitude also start to creep in at around 3 000 m. In a nutshell, it’s classified as Type B Fun.
Finally reaching the top of Judges Pass, we are met with horses and herders, then made our (still going bloody up) way towards Upper Injisuthi Cave over the escarpment (slightly off the path, so make sure you have the route pre-saved on a watch), where we settled for the night. Until around 23:24. I checked the time and for some strange reason, noted it.
Went out of the cave for a “bathroom” moment. Pitch dark, misty, cold. Suddenly, a massive boulder rolls over the edge of the cave roof and lands about 3 m away from my head. Breaks and scatters into the night with a deafening sound. I hurry back into the cave, with the rest of the crew now also half-awakened by what initially seemed like a natural rock fall. Until we realised that there were key items missing – boots, jackets, tentpens … The rock falls intensified, starting to feel like an ambush attack or an avalanche. It continued for basically an hour. With massive boulders being hurled down the mountain towards the opening of the cave, as if intentionally trying to prevent us from getting out to follow whomever might have taken the stuff. That’s the theory we settled on, anyway. It was an ever-so-slightly more logical explanation than wild horses wanting to get into the cave away from the storm … and a tad more comforting explanation than the cave collapsing under an avalanche … I’m not sure if anyone got any further sleep that night, but the rocks did eventually stop falling and the heart rates dropped down slightly. Plans were to be made at first light for the guys who lost their boots in the ordeal. The helicopter was called off. (We managed to get through to SARZA and KZN Mountain Rescue with weak signal, and they were on standby, just in case).
Joy comes in the morning. Easter Friday with a sunrise view from the highest cave in South Africa.
Thankful to be saved.
Day 3 – Mafadi Peak summit, Upper Injisuthi Cave to Marble Baths (sort of)
Garmin stats: 13.72 km, 1 432 m descent, sleeping at 1 889 m. Max heart rate 156 bpm (way down we go).
After we take a survivors photo and the two guys sans-boots become Mr. Crocks and Mr. Socks (taping socks over plakkies), we head out early to summit Mafadi Peak, a short and relatively easy stint from the cave, reaching the top of South Africa at 3 450m. I find these sorts of things (mountaintops, country borders etc.) profound for their symbolic significance, and offered a silent prayer of blessing over our beautiful nation at the simple rock altar.
We do these things for the sheer joy of having coffee and Easter eggs with 360 degree rolling views of Lesotho and South Africa. Simplicity brings clarity.
The route then hugs the border over the rocky escarpment for a while, navigating a few drops and ledges. Down is via the breathtaking Leslie’s Pass. It involves numerous unintentional and forced butt-slides due to incessant light rain with much mud causing slippery slopes, occasionally requiring hanging onto grass for dear life. If you catch a wobble, you break limbs. Or worse. Inching down foot-by-foot continues for longer than what my reasonably strong legs could carry. An onslaught on knees and quads and toes. An almost-Kilimanjaro descent rival, but with you carrying your own stuff.
We decided to not push on to Marble Bath caves, and camped next to the river in a clearing, simply not having one more kilometre of bundu bashing in our legs. Wise move. I was close to being a little broken that night. Whiskey hot chocolate and ibuprofen helps.
Day 4 – Marble Baths to basecamp
Garmin stats: 10 km, 552 m descent, sleeping back at basecamp. Max heart 149 bpm (clearly slacking).
Saying goodbye to the remnant of our Joburg friends, we bundu bash the last km to Marble Baths, and after a slippery river crossing requiring some off-the-beaten track navigation, we meander our way down (still some butt-sliding required) the rest of the mountain to track back to the trail that meets up with the day 1 route. After a short “surely we need to obviously go left” split path scenario, we have a last coffee stop, make the final river crossing, and reach the jeep track leading back to basecamp.
Our simple dinner of pasta and left-over trial food, with the brilliant forbearance of keeping some wine in the car, is a celebration of a shared adventure and personal victories.
As the cellphone reception returns and the social media reflections roll out, I reflect on why these experiences are so important to me. I’m firstly so thankful for the friends that make these experiences possible, with a special mention to Susan that initiated and organised and led this trip, and many others before it. Also to Rene and Carel that shared in the Type B (and actual) fun.
The soul has to marvel at something beyond its grasp. The body needs to persevere through a degree of physical effort. The mind must break away from daily obsessions. The heart requires connection to a community with shared passions.
Mountains and music satisfy those thirsts for me.
Selah.
Some amateur gear footnotes
- The Naturehike tents seem to condensate quite a bit, and I am not fully convinced that it would survive a proper downpour with high winds. Maybe it actually needs its tentpens. I was relieved of mine during the midnight raid.
- Salomon boots for the win, always. NorthFace rain jacket did the trick. Garmin Fenix 6s navigation is on point. Battery bank required. The DoT gifted one works well 🙂
- Protea coffee is the best, and Mamma Alles provides good sustenance. I just go with Smash and fine biltong.
- Always carry duct tape and ZipLock bags.
Tapestry of Thought 