Thomas Hut 75 years

On Friday 3 November, in between showers, 80 people celebrated the Thomas Huts 75^th birthday. The event may only have lasted a few hours, but was the culmination of one year of planning.

Passing through the Fairy Glen game park to be greeted by a pride of lions and spotting a herd of bokkies in the near distance, we arrived at the lapa in Fairy Glen.

People talked and drank by firelight as 60s music played

People talked and drank by the welcoming glimmer of firelight as 60s music played in the background, accompanied by the river. At last we were called to the ‘dining room,’ where tables had been decorated with white tablecloths and lamps, but more importantly bread, cheese and jam, we were hungry!

The speeches came before we could tuck into the ‘real’ food. Ek kan nie Afrikaanse praat nie, so I can only guess at some of what was said, but thanks to whispered translations from Lucille, I can tell you a little.

The Worcester section of the Mountain Club (MC) is the second oldest section and the oldest in the Western Cape, next to the Cape Town section, said Worcester chair Tonie Roux. He then introduced the guest of honour, 85 year-old, Piet Malan, who is apparently known for his 'tall stories' but I'm told that the following was a true account.

Climbing to the Thomas Hut next day, my thoughts wandered back to Piet’s description of how the path was built. Apart from wishing for a donkey to carry my pack, let alone me, I marvelled at how these energetic men dreamt of the idea of building a mountain hut so high above Worcester and yet so close.

Piet talked of the early days and how the path and road were built. Apparently, in 1931, the Worcester Town Council built the road to Tierkloof or the start of the climb to the Thomas Hut. Donkeys carried the cement for the hut building, back then it didn’t come in packets but in barrels weighing 100kg. It took 48 donkeys, each carrying 80 pounds (35kg) per donkey, to carry enough cement to build the path.

Piet went on to describe climbing a tree where the weir is, but this has long since burnt down. Members of the club were roped into helping to erect the hut, along with local school children, who each carried a plank of wood in exchange for lunch. Finally, in 1933, the walls were complete and it was time to put the roof on, which they did, and it blew off in a vicious storm. As a consolation, Std 6 children were sent to the hut to help with the new roof. The weather turned out to be dreadful and the poor hut held 60 ‘victims’ that night.

“We gave them coffee and no-one died,” said Piet with mirth.

Piet went on to describe how people came from the Cape Town Health Department in their droves, after hearing that the water was being polluted. A local doctor declared that it was rubbish.

“If the water had flown over seven stones, it was okay.”

But the municipality didn’t believe him.

Piet then talked about the war time and how many SA members were prisoners of war who escaped, went to Switzerland, weren’t allowed to work but gained lots of experience in the Swiss mountains. Apparently on the slopes of Meiring’s Plateau there is a mirror that shines on the church in Worcester on 3 September, the day Izak Meiring died.

Initially the hut was divided into two with a (small) section for ladies, Piet talked about women being introduced to the mountain, despite the community thinking the men were immoral for doing so. Even the committee discussed the issue and decided on Confucianism – “men on level, him not take women to mountain.”

Ladies carried their own packs and those who cooked “very good recipes” were termed “camp sluts” whereas men, who only climbed, were termed “crag hags.”

Piet described how a number of his cronies found their women on the mountain and he ended his speech by telling us, in a choked voice, that he found his Mary many years ago. And they’re still together.

Greg Moseley gave a brief speech followed by Ulli Deutschlander and then it was time for food – salads, hoender pastei, tender vleis, followed by ice cream and Dom Pedro. At the end of the evening, I watched from my sleeping bag on the bandstand as the organisers cleared up, packed away and eventually left well after the ‘witching hour’.

SATURDAY Next day, waking to showers and a torrential river, some decided to go ahead to the hut. And to make things worse, we had to carry perishables! Due to a fire a few years ago, the old Tierkloof route has been re-opened which was closed in 1969 after an earthquake.

“Thank goodness,” thought I as I remembered my last descent from Thomas Hut and losing the path on the final section, arriving at the car grumpy and sweaty.

We hadn’t walked far before we had to crawl under a barbed wire fence, avoiding funky slugs, to find a sign advising us to look for five surprises. This had us intrigued as to what the surprises were as we looked under bushes, Lucille lifting cairns. A little further we came across a brand new wooden sign, a little poetry and cheese portions in a transparent box. Like children, we looked for other surprises and excitedly finding them – fruit sweetie at Lemoendraai and biscuits. After a few threatening spots of rain and black clouds heading our way, suddenly the clouds opened and it poured.

On the way we came across the infamous Lydia Cilliers, she of the barefoot ‘climb-every-peak-in-Jonkershoek-in-one-day-barefootfame. This woman has been one of my idols for years and seeing her with two small children, in this miserable weather, she has been elevated even higher. Her two sons, Salmo aged four and Tiaan aged six years, will hopefully one day be involved with mountains and MCSA.

Slogging onwards, thinking of two ‘little’ people who had to do what I was doing, the final surprise was a tot of vitblitz not too far from the hut. Despite the rain we stopped to warm our insides with a tot.

Not much further and the hut, replete with a group of deaf and dumb youngsters in the envious position of snuggling under sleeping bags in the newly made bunk bed,. After our exertions, our body temperatures dropped and didn’t rise again until we were on the way down the mountain next day. What to do first? Eat? Drink something hot? Dig into backpacks for dry clothes that frozen fingers couldn’t feel?

The afternoon was a blur as people came, sat, talked, drank tea, huddled under sleeping bags, donning wet boots to trek to the lou. Miserable.

“Why am I here?”

At some stage, late in the afternoon, with people still arriving, in walked Pitjie Moller, former owner of the farm Brandwacht. I watched as he walked around the hut, looking at everything, backpack still on his back, wanting to see what had changed. The useless space next to the first door has been transformed into what turned out to be the most popular spot in the hut, a bed/couch, where the youngsters were snuggling. Shelves that took up valuable seating space have been moved and a luxury sink-cum-countertop area has been fitted, complete with running water. Tonie told me that the heated shower was still in the preparation stage but would shortly be complete. After hiking the Hex River Traverse on numerous occasions, the idea of a shower, let alone a hot one sounded great.

At about 5pm Tom opened the bar and started a fire. Madeleine and Erika transformed the hut into a magical mountain restaurant, complete with beautiful flower decorated candle holders.

“Where do these Worcester Mountain Club members find inspiration for this, let alone the energy to make it happen,” I thought to myself as I ‘sampled’ baba ganush and humus on organic breads while Tom braaaied chicken sosaties and boerewors outside in between entertaining the children - something to do with tokolosh.

The time had come for the food as forty people tucked into the spread, represented by four different sections of the MC, eight from the Stellenbosch, four from Cape Town and Ulli from Hottentots Holland, the rest were members of the Worcester section. How did they do it? Thoughts coming to mind as we appreciated where we were, 1000m above Worcester, that everything had been carried, olives, cheeses, boxes of wine, bread, meat, tablecloth, plates, ‘glasses’, green fig preserve made by Erna Rabie.

And then there was desert! To-die-for! The ultimate chocolate brownie, made by Lydia .

Speeches by Tonie Roux who thanked everyone for their involvement in the event, stressing that everything we had eaten and drunk was sourced locally in Worcester. Ulli Deutschlander, chair of the Hottentots Holland section thanked the Worcester section on behalf of CenComm. Paul Verhoeven, committee member of the Stellenbosch section, gave a humorous speech.

Then one of the young girls was invited to translate the sign language of the deaf contingent of the party. This was thoroughly enlightening as Pieter Pienaar described what it was like to be a member of the MC, encouraging people to ‘communicate’ with them. This brought back an earlier memory of the evening as we were standing by the fire and I correctly interpreted the signing of mouth and backside as praat kak! Next morning, meeting two of the girls at the lou, it was easy to ‘ask’ them if they had slept well, they signing back that they had been cold.

Ulli played his mouth organ, some sang but everyone was tired and it wasn’t long before the restaurant was transformed into a mountain hotel. There were bodies lying side-by-side, both upstairs and down, the rest camped in the tent village outside the hut or scattered in colourful tents wherever they could find flat ground, even someone sleeping on the fairly new veranda, built with a bequest of R5000 from the family of Dr Van der Sande who die on Brandwag Peak.

SUNDAY dawned sunny, cloudy, with a cold wind but very much more cheerful than the previous two days. There was mention of Brandwag Peak, Fonteinjiesberg and Meiring’s Plateau, but as far as I know, no-one undertook any expeditions, after all, this was a weekend of celebration.

The relaxed atmosphere of the Section was a blessing, with people leaving in their own time, meeting up again at the sitplek, continuing to the carpark, some exploring the ? dam, others swimming in the river.

Despite the Worcester branch of the MCSA only having 60 members, they outshone themselves with a weekend of hospitality, organisation and fun, not to mention excellent food.