This is a largely
true account, devoid of embellishment. It is about a hike undertaken in the
Kogelberg Biosphere by an elderly man and a not so elderly woman. The events
were related to me by the man, who I have known for over half a century, and I
can vouch for the veracity of his words concerning recent events, not enough
time having elapsed for him to edit his memory.
At the age
of 74 he is driven by the dread of physical decline to set himself challenges
that test his strength, athleticism and endurance. He surfs, cycles, kayaks,
and recently completed a one-mile swim in Fals Bay. Admittedly, he needs to
swallow anti-inflammatory medication prior to any of these events. This enables him to dismiss complaints from
his overworked joints.
Casting
about for another opportunity to defy the relentless advances being made by
osteoporosis, spondylosis of the lumbar spine and sarcopenia, he learned of a mountain
hike in the Kogelberg Biosphere that sounded like it was not for sissies.
Twenty-five kilometres in length, it started at the Palmiet River and climbed over
the intervening range to Rooi Els. When he suggested the walk to his wife, she
said that this was a two-day hike that was too long to complete in a single
outing. He could count her out on this one.
He knew a
couple who were keen hikers, and when he suggested they accompany him the man
shook his head, judging the distance in twelve hours to be beyond his
capability. His wife, however, agreed to take up the offer. A strong-willed
woman in her sixties, she was physically fit and had the assertive self-assurance
of a successful business person.
It was 7.30
and getting light when they set off after being dropped at the start of the
trail. The old fellow was feeling confident and full of vigour, having popped an
Arcoxia and two Tramacet half an hour earlier. The late winter vegetation was
in prime condition and they made their way through a variety of proteas, ericas,
restios, pelargoniums, salvias and heath. The woman led the way, hardly
bothering to use her walking pole, while he followed close behind, wielding his
two sticks for stability and leverage. The path was clear but narrow and not
well-worn. They gained height at a steady rate, the gradient being undemanding,
and the views on both sides were increasingly rewarding.
When, after
three hours, they stopped for a drink of water and a snack on energy bars, he
was grateful for the chance to take the weight off his feet and rest on a shelf
of rock. The respite was brief, however, for she soon shouldered her backpack
and urged him to do likewise. There was still a long way to go.
Around one
o’clock they stopped for a fifteen-minute lunch break before pressing on. They
had reached the highest point of the trail and now it was mostly downhill,
which was good for muscle fatigue but jarring on his knees and hips. The
afternoon wore on and it seemed to him she was quickening her pace. He knew
that without the support of his walking poles he would have been stumbling and
unable to keep up.
It was midafternoon
when she slowed and then came to a halt. For a while the track had been fading,
and now there was no trace of it at all. Continuing in the general direction
they had been on, they pressed on until she spotted a cairn of stones off to
the left. Reaching it, they were relieved to find themselves on a path again.
It led to another cairn, and then another, before abruptly disappearing. It was
gone four and, although they could see the sea in the distance where Rooi Els
lay, the woman estimated there was at least another five kilometres between
them and their destination. And it would soon be getting dark.
Below them
to their right they could see a gorge running towards the sea. Hoping they
would be able to follow it, they made their way diagonally through thick brush down the hillside until,
no longer able to stand, they took to sliding crab like, holding on to bushes
to slow their descent. At a rocky outcrop the woman stopped, and when he joined
her, they looked down into the gorge and agreed that to descend any further was
too dangerous. They would have to retrace their steps. He looked up at the
almost vertical hillside, and it was at this point in his story that I asked
him if he was starting to panic.
“Panic?
Yes, I was more than worried. You could say I was beginning to shat myself. I
don’t know how I found the strength to claw my way back up that precipitous slope.”
When he
reached his companion, who was waiting for him on more or less level ground, he
collapsed with exhaustion and relief. The light dwindling, they agreed they
were in serious trouble, and it was at this point that she made her executive
decision. If there was cell phone reception up there they would have to call
for help.
Fortunately
for them, the signal was strong, and she was soon making contact with the Wilderness
Search and Rescue hotline. The operator told her to pin their location and
remain where they were until help arrived, which would be in about three hours’
time.
The evening
was cool but the wind was light, and they made themselves as comfortable as
they could in the lee of some tall sugar bushes. It grew dark and the stars
shone with intensity in a moonless black sky. Some two and a half hours later
he was jolted from a semi-doze by his hiking companion. Not far off two lights
were bobbing in the dark. She got to her feet and started shouting to attract
the attention of their rescuers.
Members of
the Mountain Club of South Africa, they first assessed the condition of their
charges, and it was agreed that it would be possible to guide them down to
safety without having to call for additional backup. Inexplicably, they had
brought only one extra headlamp and , in a show of foolish gallantry, the old
man forfeited it to the lady, and had to grope his way in the light from one of
the mountaineers walking close behind him. Again, it was thanks to his trusty
walking poles that he was saved from missing his footing, falling and breaking
an ankle.
Well past
midnight, they finally reached the end of the trail and found a reception
committee awaiting their arrival. Apart from the main rescue vehicle, which
looked like an ambulance, there were two emergency services bakkies loaded with
all manner of gear. Eight personnel, plus the two mountaineers, had responded
to their SOS. A paramedic gave them a thorough examination, declared them
unscathed bar some minor cuts, scratches and bruises, and then they were
transported back to a meeting point in Rooi Els. There they were reunited with
their spouses, who had been waiting in a state of extreme anxiety. Thus ended
their ordeal.
*
When I
recounted this story to my son, who has met and interacted with his father’s
old mate on a number of occasions, he listened with interest before commenting.
“So, they
had cell phone reception?”
“Yes, lucky
for them.”
“And they
didn’t think of using Google Maps when they lost the path?”
I could
tell from the tone of his voice his eyebrows were raised and he was shaking his
head.
“I don’t
know. How would that have helped?”
“They could
have used the satellite option and zoomed in to find their way. Dead easy. I
use it when I go hiking or exploring coastal and mountain tracks on my
scrambler. Could have saved themselves and the rescue team a whole lot of
sweat.”
“It’s all
very well for you to be disparaging. They are not millennials like you. Not
everybody is familiar with all this stuff.”
“That’s for
sure. Anyway, it all ended happily. But he must have felt a bit of a fool,
getting lost like that? Somewhat embarrassing.”
“He didn’t
sound embarrassed. Totally unabashed, in fact. I think he sees it as another
accomplishment, being successfully rescued.”
“And it
hasn’t knocked his confidence? Maybe he will slow down and start acting like an old man?”
“I
seriously doubt it. Even now he is probably planning his next escapade.”
