Naukluft Hiking Trail #12 - And then, suddenly, it was over

So we arrived back at  the starting point of our Naukluft expedition not too long after lunchtime having completed eight days of scenic hiking. Where we were met and checked in by a slightly bemused Man Behind The Desk.

We didn't have much time to hang about, which was a pity. There's always a need to decompress after an intense experience like this. But a long drive home to Johannesburg awaited us. Besides, Adeline and I had our next adventure awaiting us.

Let me explain, and tourism people in Namibia, listen up.

While planning the Naukluft hike the two of us decided to spend an extra two weeks in Namibia, with plans to travel to Sesriem, Swakopmund and perhaps up to the Kunune river. We weren't enthusiastic about camping after ten days of roughing it,  preferring to rather stay over in a handful of mid-priced lodges along the way.

However after spending a few nights researching accommodation it was perfectly clear that lodging in Namibia is EXPENSIVE. A very average three star establishment will set you back R1 800 per night,  and R2 500 isn't unheard of. A special location is best not spoken of in Rands, but rather in Euro, even if it just sounds more affordable, which of course it isn't. In addition guest reviews of most places were very luke-warm, which points to average facilities and service being the norm.

Seriously, I couldn't find anything within a reasonable budget to stay over at in the whole of Namibia, except for two or three very delapitated self-catering places. So we started looking for somewhere else with nice scenery to comfortably put our weary feet up after Naukluft. Cut a long story short, we settled on Ireland because, one, no visas required, and two, we could spend two weeks in Ireland for less that we would pay in Namibia, Emirates flight included. I know, sounds crazy, but there you have it. Namibia is clearly not interested in South African tourists, preferring Euro-spending Germans.

Dunloe, Ireland.

And that's how we came to say a hasty goodbye to our fellow hikers outside the reception office of Naukluft. We had a flight to catch to Dublin from ORTIA in Johannesburg in two days' time, and a good 1 700km journey still lay ahead of us.

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The Naukluft should be on every serious hiker's to-do list, period. It rolls every challenge found on different types of hikes into one, and a little more of each. It's further, it's steeper, it's colder (and hotter in summer) but it's also the most beautiful and scenic hike I've done. It's tough yes, but don't believe the exaggerations. With decent equipment, sustenance and a reasonable level of fitness you can do it. I did it, and I'm no Virgin Active junkie.

So go do it.

You can see all the pics from Naukluft in my Flickr gallery.

Naukluft Hiking Trail #11 - The home run

I can't recall many specifics about the final morning on the Naukluft trail. We must have gone through the usual motions of rising just before dawn, getting a camping stove or two going for coffee water, doing our extremely basic ablutions, and having a functional breakfast. In-between there'd be bedding to be folded and packed away and a last check to see that nothing had been left behind. That was the daily routine; this had been our morning ritual for the past few days, but by now it had all become a bit blurry.

I seem to recall we did agree to sleep a little later than usual since it was a relatively easy 14km downhill walk home, but most were up at the usual pre-dawn hour. Such habits die hard especially if you're sleeping on gravel separated only by a thin layer of foam. (Note to self: Follow the example of person who brought with a plain, simple kid's lilo).

I put my Hi-Tecs on for the final time, after snapping a soulful image of them against the prevailing landscape. They'd served me well, but the soles had several deep cuts and the rubber was chipped quite badly. I'd have to pension them off when I return home.

The first few kilometers were spent crossing a section of the table top Kapokvlakte, and then we entered the final canyon that would carry us down almost right up to the door of Hiker's Haven.

The crystal clear stream we picked up along the way flowed stronger and faster as we descended. After so many days of seeing very little water it felt good, there's something reassuring in having a gurgling flow of water in close proximity on a hike. We lunched at a series of large rock pools below a small waterfall, and for most in the group it was hard to resist a quick plunge before the final seven or eight kilometers home. I'm not much for swimming in places where I have to share the water with floating objects that include dark green, slimy bits of algae and semi-drowned goggas but I thought I'd be a sport and join in. As to be expected the water was icy cold and I don't think I spent more than about four minutes before settling on a warm bank of rocks to dry out.

It was a nice, long and lazy break, but as soon as we started off again everyone walked faster and faster, expecting to see the final stretch after each bend in the canyon. The final stretch of a hike is always like that - just a little longer and further than you expect it to be. The short walk through the shady camping area and the dusty road leading to Hiker's Haven eventually arrived, and then, the final hundred meters to the compact little two-room building where we knew we'd find the Man Behind The Counter.

He looked slightly perplexed as he watched eight dusty, slightly beshevelled hikers file into the tiny office.

'You finished all eight days?'

No, you silly man. We camped just over the first hill, living for a week on Old Brown Sherry and Woolies chicken sosaties.

We asked about the hiking group we'd seen at Tsams Ost. He shook his head. 'Not finishing. We had to rescue them, one of the group developed a knee problem.' He turned the visitor's book over for us to sign.

'You're the first South African group to finish this year.'

I could be mistaken but I sensed a slight note of admiration in his voice.

You can see all the pics from Naukluft in my Flickr gallery.

Naukluft Hiking Trail #10 - The last night

We woke up early on the morning of our second last day with everyone in a hurry to start walking. Normally we left the shelters in one group, but today everyone followed their own lead, and by the time Adeline and I saddled up we were the last to leave, the others having gone ahead. This had us speculating that the trail may just be a little too long, that six days rather than eight may be more ideal to prevent burnout and this sort of 'social disintegration' setting in. But that's idle speculation. The Naukluft is a solid eight days long whether you like it or not, and it's not getting shorter anytime soon.

We steadily gained height during the course of the morning until we reached a rock pile at the highest point of the trail. We were on top, so to speak!

Everyone knew from here on it was pretty much plain sailing and that the canyon slogging of the past few days had come to an end. So we enjoyed an extra long pause to have lunch and absorb the last amazing view of the outstretched valleys before we start on the final leg home. That would be plateau, and then a slow decline down to the starting point at Hiker's Haven.

The afternoon's walk was a long stretch crossing Kapokvlakte. After six days of mountains and deep valleys, we were now in a dramatically different landscape - a perfectly flat table top blanketed all the way to the horizon with kapokbosse - a dusty green shrub covered in pearl-sized, cotton-like balls that gave the plain its name.

Shallow indentations hinted at pans of water during summer, and here and here I spotted patches of mud and sludgy water with hundred of hoof indentations pockmarking the edges of the dark pools. Small herds of springbok broke the horizon now and again, the little ones playfully hopping and bouncing along.

Our final shelter, appropriately named Kapokvlakte, remained hidden behind a massive clump of bushes and trees until we were literally a few yards from it.  Later, as we were preparing the last of the food in our bags for dinner, we were treated to the most spectacular bright orange sunset. Those who still had battery power left in their cameras scurried into the surrounding veld to capture this highlight of the trail. Having slept mostly at the bottoms of canyons the past few days, the sun would leave us quite surreptitiously and unnoticed every night, as it faded behind the mountains. Finally seeing the quintessential African sun set behind the horizon here on our final evening seemed like an appropriate goodbye from all of beautiful Naukluft.

By now temperatures had risen somewhat, and tonight wasn't as cold as it been at the outset. Or perhaps my skin had grown a layer or two of extra protection. I decided to for the first time ditch the thermal underwear that had kept me from freezing to death on previous nights, and slept soundly until 7am,  two hours later than our normal rising time.

As we set out on the straight footpath leading home I turned a last time and looked at the last of the familiar stone shelters that had kept us, sort of, protected during the trail. Across the plain a few springboks were watching us walk away, curious about these strange animals that kept trekking through their territory.

You can see all the pics from Naukluft in my Flickr gallery.

Naukluft Hiking Trail #9 - Up a waterfall

The next morning a few of  us took the slight detour that leads to the base of the impressive Die Valle cliff before starting out on the day's hike. Only a thin, silver trickle of water was dripping its long way down to the pebble-strewn base of what must be a breathtaking waterfall to behold after heavy rains. The cliff is more than 200m high and almost as wide, which means an awe-inspiring curtain of water  tumbles down here after a good thunder shower, only to dissipate into the gravel within an hour or two and return the scenery to the waterless landscape it is most of the time.

This morning's climb included a challenging 500m uphill, first to the top of Die Valle waterfall and then further up the canyon to a small plateau.   The climb was, as I suspected, a very steep up and up, and to make it manageable I broke it into 50m sections, stopping for a minute or two at each point to catch my breath. Two or three times a deceptive ridge would make it look like I was nearing the summit, but each time I was fooled and another upward stretch showed itself.

The climb ended more or less right at the lip of the Die Valle waterfall. A large, clear rock pool enticed two or three of the braver walkers to shed their clothes, and in their undies wallow into the icy cold water for a few minutes before settling in the sun to dry out. Straight below us the extensive, flat valley we'd crossed the day stretched to the horizon.

The landscapes you see in Naukluft are as varied and unique as the time you spend there; no two vistas that unfold are ever the same. You may spend a few minutes admiring the view, walk a few hundred metres further, turn around, and what you see will have changed completely since you last looked.

It was only slightly past lunchtime when we started the steep downhill that led to the Tufa Shelter, tonight's stayover. The route wound its way along an old mountain pass that had been remarkably well laid out many, many years before, connecting a sheep faming outpost at the top of the mountain to the farmstead below. It was once well surfaced and bordered by a neat stone wall but now its gravel surface was deeply eroded and at places strewn with rocks that had tumbled down the mountainside.

After a while glances in the direction of the setting sun made us realise we had to step up the pace in order to reach the shelter before dusk. We'd totally under-estimated the time it would take to get to the bottom of the pass. I was a bit disappointed because not only do I dislike rushing a hike, especially one I'll probably never in my life do again, but also because the scenery along the way had a special ambience, imbued with a feeling of melancholy for the toil of the hardened farmers who tamed the land here for a while before it started slipping back into nature, as we saw now.

Once we reached the base of the mountain pass it took a while to locate the shelter - blame bad signage and the approaching nightfall. Thus far trail markings have been almost perfect, and in all the time we'd been walking we only missed the ubiquitous painted yellow footprint guiding us along on no more than on two or three occasions. All along it was clear that the trail was being well maintained and looked after.

Familiar foot marking hanging from a tree.

The mood at the shelter that night was slightly downbeat and less boisterous than before. Nothing had changed - the toilet was no more dodgy than before, and everyone was still getting along fine. But I could sense the six days of hard trekking was taking its toll. And, I discovered my first foot blister. Nothing to worry about, but there it was, covering half my left foot big toe. So far I'd managed to stay blister free, but due to the fast downhill pace through the mountain pass I'd pushed my feet a little too hard, and this was the consequence. I made a mental note to stick to a foot-friendly pace for the remainder of the trail. Last thing I want are feet that pack up with the trail end in sight. So I duly doctored the blister with a fancy zinc oxide plaster kindly donated by someone who had a few extra. It worked like a charm, because it never bothered me for the rest of the trail.

You can see all the pics from Naukluft in my Flickr gallery.

Naukluft Hiking Trail 8 - Room with shower

And here we are, about to start day number five.

The path leading away from our overnight spot wound its by now familiar arid, rock-strewn way along hillsides and scenic canyons decorated with sparse clutches of spiky succulents and quiver trees.

Along the way we paused at a windmill hidden among a few dark green thorn trees. It was spinning wildly in the stiff breeze, yet the cement dam beside it was bone dry. All the man-made watering points we passed so far on the trail - mostly leftovers from the area's earlier farming days -  were waterless, meaning it had been a lean summer that had recently turned into an early winter, which was where we were now in the seasonal cycle. It's a tough, unforgiving land, this Naukluft, and I silently admired the pioneers who first settled here many decades ago.

Today's trail was another solid 17km walk but after an hour or two of scaling a steep ridge the going levelled off, especially once we landed on a jeep track meandering its way along seemingly endless stretch of flat scrubland, carrying on for what felt like an eternity. The track eventually turned into a well-maintained dirt road leading into an impressive amphitheatre surrounded on three sides by towering cliffs several hundred metres high. One of the broadest cliffs visible in the distance was the imposing but bone dry Die Valle waterfall, which we had to scale tomorrow.

The first sign that indicated that tonight's stay-over was close by was a water tower with something that looked like a makeshift shower at its base.  Wow! That would be a first. So far our bathing facilities have been limited to water from a two litre fold-up bucket, allowing for rinsing down only the most essential parts of our bodies. I was one of three lads who reached the tower first and it didn't take any convincing for us to dump our packs and before you can say "Lux beauty soap" we were splashing around under the gushing spout of water from an overhead pipe. We were soon reprimanded by the group laggards for wasting precious water but I think they were merely a little jealous having to wait for us to finish and emerge with broad smiles, soaked and refreshed.

You can see all the pics from Naukluft in my Flickr gallery.

Naukluft Hiking Trail #7... Halfway!

Day four, and we're on our way  to having done half of the legendary Naukluft Hiking Trail. I say 'on our way', because ahead of us still lay a full 17km, eight hour day of imitating the agile dassies we keep having glimpses of as they perch camouflaged and motionless, high up on white streaked, crusty boulders and tiny rockface ledges, or scurried between their family homes in cracks and crevices.

Spot the furry animal.

Today's walking menu was mercifully mostly downhill except for two not-too-streneous inclines. By now the unbroken, majestic landscapes of Naukluft had convinced me that this was the most beautiful desert hike I've walked. The canyons were getting deeper and narrower as we progressed, and the air of silent desolation became almost tangible. On more than one occasion in the morning I held back, falling behind everyone else by twenty minutes in order to walk in total silence. The only sound I heard from time to time was the sudden crackle of stones tumbling down as a pair of surefooted klipspringers bounded away on the opposite wall of the canyon.

Mid-afternoon there was a steep, very steep scramble down in a treacherous gully filled with loose gravel, into a narrow valley. By lunchtime the group had split up and four of us walking together downed our packs not far from an impressive dry waterfall where a side canyon joined the one we were walking in. Lunch, for us, was two John West tuna standards complemented by the obligatory raisins and energy bars. Someone else sat peeling two boiled eggs, something the owner swore was heaven's gift to the long-distance hiker.   After this pleasant break we followed the dry river bed until the valley opened up rapidly into a mountain-ringed floodplain, and finally it was an easy  two kilometer walk along a well-kept dirt road walk to Tsams Ost, our fourth overnight.

It's common knowledge that hikers have the option to drive to Tsams Ost beforehand and stash half their rations there, thus making the load to carry during eight days of hiking considerably lighter. Tsams-Ost however is a very bumpy two-hour, 250km drive from the starting point, not a pleasant prospect for me, having driven 1 700km in the previous two days. Fortunately, after a little negotiation with the Guy Behind The Counter we got all eight ration packs transported to Tsams Ost by the camp management for the bargain price of R600. I'd never heard or read about this welcome  little feature of the hike before, so perhaps it's new, or maybe it's someone's little entrepreneural side business.

But right now someone was fidgeting with the lock of the Army-sized, green steel cupboard standing next to the Tsams Ost shelter. It held several bottles of wine, tinned puddings, and a bakkie load of boxes containing assorted treats that would provide a nice break from the culinary  tedium that has developed in the past four days. The mood at dinner time was considerably lighter and the chatter around the supper 'table' - the tiny stone top tables on the trail are designed more for a cosy dinner-for-two than eight hungry hikers - went on a little later into the evening than normal.

About toilets on Naukluft. They're of the typical long-drop variation throughout, except tick the 'none' box for Ubisis kloof hut. And make all of them SMELLY and SHORT-drop. Which made a few of the more delicate hikers in the ranks opt for spades and squatting.

Shortly after we arrived at Tsams Ost a Ford Fortuner towing a trailer pulled up and a not-so-young-looking woman and two male companions started packing their half-way supplies into the green cupboards.  Turns out they were starting their Naukluft adventure the following day but has decided, contrary to us, to drop off their replenishments themselves.

 They left no more than a few minutes later, and we never saw them again. Turns out they never completed the route. Someone in their group started suffering from bad knees and they fell out on the second day. The account of their rescue, as told to us by The Man Behind The Counter upon our return sounded harrowing.

 The red wine we'd brought along had put us all into a jolly mood and we all went to bed with smiles on our faces. So far the gods have been with us and their were no serious aches and pains, and equally important, everyone's head was in the right space. There was no turning back, despite the alluring shortcut sign pointing in the direction of the trail starting point we saw earlier in the day. Aluta continua!

You can see all the pics from Naukluft in my Flickr gallery.

Naukluft Hiking Trail #6... Blisters

I left the camp, or rather the slab of concrete we called home the previous night still chewing frantically on a peanut bar, trying to get my energy levels up to a point where I'll be able to walk up the steep canyon for a few kilometers and scale a few chains inbetween. My normal, hearty breakfast consisting of coffee, a generous helping of Futurelife, and my blaster dosre of vitamin pills and energy sweets would have to wait until we reach the top of the canyon, 400 leg breaking meters above us, where we'd agreed to pause at a rock pool to eat and stock up our water supplies. I say 400m up, because the horizontal 14-17km we walked each day wasn't the issue, it was the daily slog of clambering in and out of canyons that took its toll.

On the way up we walked past the ubiquitous quiver trees flowering bright yellow bouquets, the first time I've ever seen them in bloom. Their flowers weren't unique; all along the drably coloured trail small splashes of colour decorated shrubs as if a giant artist spilled droplets of paint among the rocks and boulders that littered the way.

After about an hour of walking we reached the bottom of the first chain, the same one we'd used to descend into Ubisis Kloof the previous day. I felt a bit wobbly having had no meaningful sustenance but managed to heave myself and my kit up all of the chain sections, finally reaching a spot where, as usual, the fast walkers were already lighting their stoves and boiling water alongside a rock pool in the tiny stream that trickles along the base of the canyon.

Here's a tip on how to enjoy the Naukluft: Don't count kilometers. Day after day you'll be cris-crossing canyons that, if you're not careful, will feel like a never-ending rock-strewn eternity. Don't worry, they all do come to an end. And all have stunning landscapes that very few earthlings have ever visited and had the privilege to see. So make the most of your time there - stop often, enjoy the scenery, pause, be in the moment.

On most days the afternoon's hike is generally across flat plains, or runs down-hill. The designer of Naukluft, apart from being a chain fanatic, was also a master at understanding hike philosophy: Nothing breaks a hiker's spirit like a long uphill trudge climbat the end of the day when the hut is within sniffing distance. Here there are none of that, it's always a gentle roll up to the hut.

So it was a relatively easy walk across a few low rises to our next stop, Adelhorst Shelter. It was once again a roofed stone kraal, this time a round one with a hand crank water pump right next to it. By now stringing a washing line had sort of by default become my job at each stop-over, and within half an hour of it garments of all colours and shapes and sizes were fluttering in the wind.

It always strikes me how quickly daily rituals develop on hikes. One of the those on Naukluft  was the regular pre-dinner plaster session, bandaging up the day's blisters. And blisters there were aplenty, and they multiplied as the days went on. Of the eight hikers only two were blister-less by the end, and I wasn't one of them. Boulder-hopping, rocky canyons and sheer distance took it's toll.

Fortunately one forward-looking hiker brought along zinc oxide plasters, which kept the pain and agony at bay. And most importantly, she brought enough along to keep a small army marching. I salute your foresight and sharing spirit, Comrade.

You can see all the pics from Naukluft in my Flickr gallery.