Cracks on Krakadouw, Cedarberg

What a privilege to camp in a cedar plantation under a canopy packed with so many stars that it was difficult to make out the constellations, and in the morning to be woken to neighing donkeys. Surely it doesn’t get better than this. But it did, on top of Krakadouw, in the northern Cederberg.

Setting out at 2.30pm from the highest point on the Pakhuispas, 890m, after a 2½-hour journey from Table View where eight of us met, we set off on the 12km walk along the dirt track towards Heuningvlei. Looking back we took note of the peak Faith, with Hope and Charity hidden behind, knowing that when we returned this is what we must look for.

There was little water en route and the temperature was high, the road went higher and then higher again. No wonder our legs ached and our feet were sore (3 hr walking time).

At long last we came to a stream where Ernest and Edi plunged their tired feet while Charl, John and I looked on. Moving on for a short distance we found the hut draped with Bishop’s Boys. They were on their 39^th annual camp and what a lot of fun it sounded – building rafts, climbing peaks and then swimming at Crystal pools as well as community outreach at Elizabethfontein.

Despite all this excitement we decided to head for the nearby grove of trees (945m). It was a good move seeing as another group of boys were further along the trail at another grove of trees.

The groves turned out to be the rare, endangered Ceders, Widdringtonia cederbergensis. The groves were most probably planted because this is not their normal habitat, which is on higher slopes and growing between rocks. Cedar trees were initially wiped out for use as telephone poles and then by man because of too-frequent fires. But, thanks to a dedicated group called the Friends of the Cederberg, the trees are being planted in the hopes that one day the area will be covered with them. I personally would love to see donkeys return to the area and be used by hikers, along with a guide, but I don’t think Nini, Sharon and Rob would have agreed with me on that first night. Apparently they were bothered by donkeys as they went to bed. Rob flashed his torch but eventually got up and “marked his territory” which appeared to work, until the early hours of morning when their cries could be heard.

It was 6.30pm on Friday and we were soon preparing supper, followed by John and his mouth organ and then constellation spotting.

Saturday dawned very early with the sounds of Ernest and, a little later, the donkeys. We set off at 7.30am passing a deserted hut before gradually climbing through thick fynbos to a grove of Cedars and the second choice of campsite for some of the Bishop’s Boys.

After almost one-hour hiking it was time to ascend alongside a dry gorge, the slopes dotted with dead and living Cedars. We stopped along the way to chat, rest and make morning tea/coffee.

At around 1 400m we came to the first water followed by an arch with a pool containing bottles of Coke. On the ascent we passed and re-passed Bishop’s Boys. Shame! Some of them had missed the turn-off to the gorge and ended up being one-hour later than the other group. And what was worse, they hadn’t had breakfast.

The serious route-finding came after the crack when cairns went off to the left out of the ravine. Edi and I went off in search of the route and by this time Grant, Ann and Charl were taking strain and told Ernest to carry on and not to worry. This in fact was a worry because they never joined up with the rest of us – “were they lost”, “were they injured”. John and Ernest spent time searching for them after we made camp and making arrows with rocks to show the way. The following day we were anxious because there was no sign from them.

Back to the route-finding and we made our way back into the ravine, eventually topping out from a narrow rock scramble where some of us hauled backpacks to the higher level, thanks to masculine muscle power.

On top of the Krakadouw plateau it was lunch-time and we searched for the elusive cave, our accommodation for the night. I don’t know who eventually stumbled on it but thank goodness we did. The last time John, Nini and Rob had been on the peak was about five or six years ago and they couldn’t remember very much. I had climbed the peak about 15 years ago, not long after joining the Trails Club and could remember nothing.

The peak is not one of those that you see from afar and say: “I want to climb that peak,” because it’s insignificant and you don’t really see it from below or anywhere, except possibly the R27, if you know what you’re looking for. No wonder it’s called Krakadouw, although I don’t know what the douw means. Getting from one beacon to another is no easy feat and necessitates crossing a chock-rock and scaling the face on the opposite side. “There’s no cell phone reception and it’s a long drop if I fall,” said the sensible half of me, but not Ernest and Rob who scaled the “gap” to join us at the southern beacon for sundowners.

The views are amazing and I missed my stats friend Sandy who could have told us the name of every peak and its height, all this with a tot of booze. Instead Ernest regaled us with stories about SAB.

Back at the cave we cooked, ate and John challenged Ernest to a half-hour of no talking. And he did it, of course, he’s a Gemini! But it must have been hard and it sure was quiet for the rest of us. But the pecan pie and cream made up for everything, supplied by Nini and Rob, even though they seem to prefer walking together and not being part of “the team”.

Sunday – I slept to a star-scattered ceiling and woke to a very hot sun while, according to John, they woke to a psychedelic ceiling (what has he been smoking was the look on everyone’s faces). John, Ernest, Edi and Sharon slept side by side in the cave while Nini and Rob had a bit more sense and slept under the stage/bandstand – a rock formation in front of the cave, complete with overhang. By the way, the cave is positioned in one of many crevices on the summit, with no view and water quite far away.

Sunday was a long haul with a dreadful knee-wrenching three-hour descent followed by a 3.40 hour walk along the jeep track (as opposed to 3-hours outward journey), all this walking time only and in a temperature of approximately 34 degrees.

After two brief stops on the descent we swam in pools near to the lower Cedar groves before finally reaching the hut and no sign of the three who went AWOL. Without stopping at the hut everyone made their way to the swimming hole below the dirt road, this time for some strange reason, everyone wore clothes!!! I continued and found a plunge pool where I gorged on nature and the cold water.

Not much to be said of the rest of the road except for coming across five donkeys grazing on restios, more hills than were there on the walk in and wonderful cold beers and grapefruit-flavoured booze compliments of Ernest, Edy and Rob. And, thankfully a note on the windscreen from the three AWOL members to say they’d gone in search of shade to the next campsite.

Thanks to John James we had a successful ascent of this summit, despite being a very different group to those who originally booked, and to those on the waiting list who missed out on this special peak: John James, Edi and Ernest Burki, Robandnini, Sharon, moi and the three whoididnotmakeit Gary and Ann and Charl.