Crystal Pools - Cederberg

June 1999

The Cederberg is probably my favourite wilderness area. Little can compare to the remoteness, the silence and timelessness of those mountains. Ron and I resolved to tackle one of the classic wilderness routes - Algeria to Wuppertal, by way of Crystal Pools. However, the threatening wild weather and our unfamiliarity with the route to Wuppertal, tempered our enthusiasm, and we decided to walk up to Crystal Pools via Middelberg, and then circle back via Sleepad and Uitkyk Pass.

Algeria campsite

The rain bucketed down on Friday night as we slipped into a deserted Algeria. The only way to unpack the vehicle was to decamp straight into the ablution block. Later, as the weather cleared, we pitched the tents.

I had packed in such a rush that I forgot most things, including ALL my food (left on the kitchen table). Things were not starting well...

Ron at Cathedral Rock

However, Saturday was one of those pristine winter's days that only the Cape can conjure up - diamond light under azure sky. The route was long and strenuous, but the places were remote and beautiful, and water was coursing down every stream and seeping out of every rock. Often we surprised small families of klipspringers, getting to within tens of paces of them before they bounded up the rocky slopes in panic. We passed through groves of threatened Clanwilliam Cedar, remnants of once great forests - a sad commentary on the mindlessness of humankind.

Non-existent hut above Crystal Pools

Crystal Pools is a suspended amphitheatre through which a stream runs, but it wasn't warm enough for a dip. A much-quoted guide book informed us that the old forester/ranger hut no longer existed, but we found it on the ridge north of the amphitheatre about an hour before sundown. It's not much more than a "stable" with grass on the floor, but it sheltered us from the rising wind.

On Sunday the north wind blew icily, but the sun was out, and we made it back to Algeria at 16h30. Except for a small party who arrived at the hut at sunset, we had not seen another soul.

My lack of rations had not been a problem: Big Ron, true to his philosophy of not going hungry on trail, had packed so much that we both lived off his rations for 2 days - and then he still carried plenty out!

Boosmansbos Wilderness Trail

November 1999

This trail represented a reunion of sorts for those who had walked the Tsitsikamma Trail. Unfortunately, the whole group couldn't make it, but Watty, Peter, Big Ron, Charlotte, Lorette and Nico did.

Boosmansbos Nature Reserve straddles the Langeberg Mountains. It lies north of Heidelberg, east of Swellendam and south-east of Barrydale in the Little Karoo, and protects the last remaining afro-montane forest in the range. Said forest has remained untouched because of its remoteness, and these mountains certainly are forbidding, but beautiful.

The Boosman (the angry man) was apparently a hermit who lived high in the range, selling wild honey and wood to surrounding towns and farms.

Saturday involved a long, winding trudge up the western slope of the Duiwenhoks River valley. At times the mist and cloud receded to reveal majestic peaks and deep, dark kloofs, but mostly we walked in mist. However, after we broached the saddle to follow the contour on the northern aspect of the range, the weather suddenly cleared to reveal the Little Karoo, Barrydale and the intervening valleys.

Our stay in the stone huts of Helderfontein was notable for another memorable feast prepared by Lorette and Charlotte.

Helderfontein

Sunday dawned clear and crisp, and some of us decided to take the short walk to Boosmansbos, before departing. By the time we returned from the old forest, the tongues of mist were creeping up the kloofs, and when we hit Barend Koen's logging road, we were engulfed in the wet, but warm, fog.

The views must be awesome, but our route down the road was like walking in a tunnel of mist paved with loose clumps of sandstone. At least we were forced to concentrate on the surrounding fynbos, but wet feet, the downgrade and the compacted road were making walking difficult.

Somewhere between Helderfontein and Saagkuilskloof, Big Ron mislaid his legendary sense of humour - and then we suddenly emerged out of the mist into the stunning Duiwenhoks kloof. All was well again as we climbed out of the kloof along a path which hugs the kloof wall. I'd like to know the story behind that path, as it is not a hiking path, but a narrow pass with small cuts and stone fills. My guess is a logging path for horses.

Duiwenhoks Kloof

This was the hike of the tenderfeet....

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