SLIPPING AND SLIDING …. BUYING LAND - Graskop
By Gerhard van Rooyen (Jnr)
Saturday, 28 April 2007 was the day. The day we were suppose to take our first hike…
We were all eager beavers waking at the crack of dawn at the calling of ducks – not crowing roosters or cackling hens – to do what we came to Graskop to do – to take a hike (or was it?)
Take a hike to where? To nowhere.
Exactly. Nowhere. Well – that is the way it goes. Or does it?
The clouds were thick in the air and it rained. On our way to the Morgenzon forest station it rained, then cleared up and rained a bit more. We arrived at our destination ready as a fiddle…but there was always the pancakes calling, and it is quicker back to Harry’s Pancakes in Graskop with the cars. The pancakes yelled really hard and won the majority over.
In the end three adventurous people decided to walk, since the trail was considered a bit dangerous in these wet conditions. And wet it was. We were told that we could take the longer or shorter route which splits at the Morgenzon hut. We found no split and just followed the trail and Yellow Foot. Until today I do not know how far we hiked. I had a family member (my dad) and Eric [I forgot his surname] hiking with me. The hike took us through the plantations and some patches of forest – absolutely stunning scenery. On our way we met another group of young hikers – and the story on their faces had lots to tell – we wondered what pain might be lying ahead of us. The only pain on this relatively easy trail is the purchasing of a piece of land…paid with:
1. A skid on slippery mud,
2. A few ballet moves and hands in the air and then…
3. Hello there Mother Earth!
The skies cleared and it turned out to be a beautiful day for hiking. The route was clearly marked throughout except at one point where we had to search a bit for the most sought after Yellow Foot in this country...
It lead us past the Morgenzon hut (in good condition), up and down and around the hills, through grass fields littered with knap se kęrels and some braambos branches scratching your shins. At this point we started paying for the land with our blood. The slipping, sliding and ballet moves were a thing of the past.
Part of the trail (closer to the end) you walk on an old railway track that stops and starts in the middle of nowhere. It runs alongside a hill on the one side and a river on the other that I think is called the Blyde River which was running strong after the rains. On the railway track we came across a lost cow (?) which showed us the way for about one kilometer before she could find an open piece of land to turn off and let us pass.
The trail led us past some mining activity and on to a dirt road, where we had to dodge and dive bikers taking part in a grueling 140km plus race through the plantations.
This trail is suitable for anyone to walk in dry conditions and offer some spectacular scenery and tranquility. Unfortunately the Department of Forestry and Water Affairs refuses to hand me the title deeds for the land bought with points 1 to 3 above.
Oom Piet – after those grass fields I am sure of one thing – there is no bosluis in my ….
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