MINI-METHS South Africa 24 – 27th October 2012
Participants:
Shelley Milstein (organiser), Mike Petzold, Verena Petzold
From Pietersburg to
Tzaneen, Shelley knows everyone and everyone knows Shelley. Only 3 METHS members pitched up for this
meet, but Shelley’s friends and relatives rallied round, providing lifts,
leadership and even a sit-down lunch at a friend's farm-house before our final
day’s activity and, of course, their friendly companionship. Shelley had organised everything, right down
to packed lunches and feeding her aunt’s chickens while she was away in Denmark
- oh yes, the auntie we never met and whose beautiful house was handed over to
Verena and me for 4 days. Did we deserve
the good references Shelley must have given to Auntie Karin? Just in case we didn’t, we left a nice gift
for our esteemed hostess. There was also
an ulterior motive because we didn’t want to leave and would love to go back
and explore more of this beautiful part of the Union. Writing this, more than 3 months after the
event, the memories come flooding back.
55 kilometres east of
Pietersburg, nestles the village of Haenertsburg (alt. 4,547’), just off the
main road to Tzaneen. If you are in a
hurry, you can easily miss the turn-off.
Haenertsburg is like Hobbit territory in a 1950s time-warp. Olde-worlde genteel charm abounds, quaint
pubs, antique and s/h bric-a-brac & book shops, delightful cafes and... and...
and... no queue at the Post Office!
Everyone seems to own a “farm” ... somewhere. Shelley’s got one too, though she’s keeping
it quiet – at least we never saw it.
We had cranked our
old Kombi into action and driven 300 km. up the N1 from Jo’burg to Pietersburg, now called Polokwane (guess what I dubbed it?), but
towns and villages in the Hobbit territory have, mercifully, been spared South
Africa’s silly re-naming fad.
Day one – Our
guide for the day was Shelley’s intrepid friend Di who collected us in her big
4WD. She drove us up through hill farms
towards Fountainhead and Paeroa. She
drove one-handed, appearing unfazed by the most diabolical bush tracks. We parked in the middle of nowhere. Our target was Iron Crown, at 6,982’, the
northernmost outlier of the great Drakensberg chain and loftiest summit in the
province. This involved attaining, then
traversing, a long ridge, beyond which, apparently, lay our summit. “Apparently” because I had been unable to lay
my hands on a map of the area. Large
scale topo. maps are simply not available in bookshops or newsagents. One has to apply direct to the Government
Printer in Pretoria. Due to low cloud we
couldn’t see Iron Crown.. Di told us
that without the clouds, we’d still be unable to see it until we had gained the
ridge. After a couple of hours tramping
upwards, ominous rain-clouds loomed. Di
decided that it would be pointless to carry on so we retraced our steps, identifying
botanical specimens such as Scilla
and Protea. Late afternoon we chilled out (warmed up?) in
one of Haenertsburg’s delightful coffee shops, stuffing ourselves with local
delicacies. For the time being, Iron
Crown remained only in our imagination.
Did it really exist?
Day two - “My special ‘boy-friend’ John has invited us
for an early lunch,” announced Shelley.
“He farms in the high country over the other side of Iron Crown, so we
may be able to have another crack at it this afternoon, weather permitting.” Di dutifully rolled up again, this time with
her hubby in the front seat, so then we were five. Hubby entertained us with local anecdotes
while Di did her thing over the potholes and corrugations. This time, she clung to the wheel with both hands, as collision with frequent
boulders tried to wrench them apart. Arriving
chez John, we explored the surroundings of his magnificent house until he
returned from the field. We were then
treated to a super sit-down luncheon and social gathering on his khonde,
attended by several more of John’s and Shelley’s friends. In the afternoon, John had planned a
tęte-ŕ-tęte with Shelley in his computer room, so he was unable to lead us to
Iron Crown. However he described the
best route and Verena and I set off on our own.
John, Shelley and any others who might pitch up, would follow later and
meet us on the way down .. or
something. Meanwhile the sky had cleared
and we finally made it to the summit in sunshine – Hooray! The view more than compensated for the often
pathless and sweaty scramble. Upon
return, John presented me with an antique map of the area. How did he know I collected antique maps??
Day Three – Di, the
Safari Rally Driver, appeared for duty again.
We headed eastwards, on the wide, sealed highway, with perfect
surface. Would this be a Di’s no-hands drive? We stopped in Tzaneen to refuel. I managed to beat Di to the cashier and paid
for the fill-up before Di could, whereupon she addressed me sternly: “That’s not the idea at all !”… Nearby, our leader for the day, Derek, was
waiting for us in a yet bigger 4WD, together with 4 more of Shelley’s amazing
circle of friends. Our target was Serala peak 6,726’, highest point in the
Wolkberg Wilderness Reserve – “a serious scramble”
said Derek. “Does he mean the walk/climb
or the drive?” we wonder, as Di tries desperately to keep up with him, throwing
her jeep around the most tortuous mountain track yet. Cold rain came at us shortly after we set
off. We were now above the tree line and
the downpour blew at us sideways and then into our faces. We had to keep going to avoid
hypothermia. Despite that, we had split
into two groups, Slowish and A-Bit-Quicker.
The Bit-Quickers included, not surprisingly, a couple who lacked
essential outdoor gear and waterproofs.
They were re-named successively Very-Brief-Shorts Contingent and then
The Goose-Pimple Group. The final
scramble to the still invisible summit lay just ahead, Derek told us. But enough was enough so we retreated, far
enough to duck into the forest for a little shelter, the inevitable Wet-Nipple
Competition, followed by a detour to view a waterfall.
Day Four, dawned
damply, with ‘Chiperone’ swirling. So we
stayed indoors, drying previous day’s saturated togs in front of Karin’s gas
heater and log fire. Then we tidied up
and prepared for our long drive south again on the next day. We felt hugely privileged that Shelley and
her friends had given precious time to show us their magnificent surroundings
and made us feel so welcome. And Shelley
even knew all the Haenertsburg’s publicans, so we also enjoyed the evening’s
alcoholic meals in traditional METHS fashion.
Thank you Shelley and
Karin, Di and John. Any time you find
yourselves in our neck of the woods, we’ll do our best to return the
compliment. We were spoilt rotten – and
can’t wait to return your hospitality – any time you like. Just name the date.
© WDYFO, 2013