Injasuti Hike April 2004

Hike to Lower Injasuti Cave – 24 and 25 April 2004

Attendees – Scott , Angus , Dave, Sandy, Niv, Karen, Alan and Leanne (Miss America)

Setting off on a balmy Friday night, Miss America didn’t really expect this kind of South African hospitality. Between the ever-tactful Scott and the not-so-tactful Allen and Angus, Leanne (Miss America) quickly lifted her game and became what can only be described as “a Canadian South African with dubious North American ancestry”. Satisfied that Miss America was up to the rigours of a weekend away with the likes of Angus, we set course for Hillcrest where, remarkably, Karen is waiting for us outside her gate.

We look skywards, checking for rain….

The party hits the highway and heads for hamburgers at the Mooi River 24hour Engen. It seems that the tradition of eating over the bonnet of a car isn’t lost to South African culture. Miss America approves.

Some skillful navigation by Karen and Scott finds us on the Injasuti Road. Some last minute bridge spotting by Scott (he of the bridge radar talents) sees five wide-eyed would be hikers arrive at the gates of the campsite.

They are closed.

Thankfully we’re mistaken for poachers and are accosted by gate guards who let us in. Angus does his bit for Castle Lager marketing and soon the gate guards are armed with beer, chips ……and rifles. (Funny how we question the wisdom of this decision only much later!!!)

In hindsight, pitching tents in the dark was the best way to experience the Berg for the first time. Stumbling out of one’s tent in the morning and being suddenly surrounded by imposing mountains is as beautiful as it is frustrating. Rock climbers in the Berg are like monks in a brothel. Sadly most the rock is too “chossy” to climb.

Coffee. Pack. Brush teeth. Repack. Take down tent. Repack. Go fill out the Mountain Rescue Register. Repack. Pay. Repack.

Right on cue, Dave, Sandy and Niv the Hiking Machine arrive. 9am, almost to the second. (How does he do that?) We hide some Castles in the cold stream for when we return and head out towards the cave.

Easy hiking and lots of stops see us arriving at the most beautiful rock pool at about 3.30pm. Suddenly the adults turn into kids. Scott and Angus scout the rock pool to find a “slippy slide” Allen and Niv the Hiking Machine follow and soon Dave joins in the juvenile slippy fun. The water is “this cold” gestures Angus, as he holds his hands about as far apart as a fisherman who’s stretching the truth.

Karen the Centrefold arrives in bikini and hiking boots, after her bath further up the stream. The boys mist over. (Mental note “send that photo to Tony Lourens from SA Mountain Magazine)

We head up to the cave to settle in. This place is beautiful. Almost as soon as we’re settled, the boys go down to the river for water. From a distance, the boys “moon” the girls up in the cave. Miss America and Karen give as good as they get and the boys down at the river wish they’d eaten more carrots when they were kids.

Dinner is a festive affair. Karen’s MSR stove proves to be the fastest stove, while Sandy calmly unpacks the entire ready meal section of Woolworths. Take that Keith Floyd …..now this is outdoor cooking! Stories are swopped and joke telling hits an all time low point as red wine, whisky, Jack Daniels and beer keeps appearing out of seemingly bottomless back packs. Off to bed at 8 O’CLOCK!!!!! **hic**

After nearly 10 hours sleep, we wake to another beautiful Berg day. Allen heads down to the pools for a “nature swim” to shake some cobwebs. The others arrive and we decide to make a beeline for the Bierfassl, a restaurant next to the Nottingham Road Brewery. This is all the motivation we need and we set a blistering pace.

A brief stop at the halfway “lunch” stop and we soldier on.

Bierfassl….Bierfassl…Bierfassl …

We arrive back at the campsite at 11am and we immediately reap the benefits of brilliant planning. Angus’ beers, left in the stream are now properly chilled. Scott breaks into a full sprint as he sees the cold beer can in Niv the Hiking Machine’s hand. We shower, pack and head out. The Berg was a gracious hostess, allowing us views of the entire range, which acts not only as a mental postcard but an invitation to return. We all quietly accept.

The journey to the Bierfassl and the lunch which ensues is packed with humour, loud music and laughter. Angus, the consummate brewer, educates the ignorant on the finer points of brewing the amber nectar. We repeatedly ask the question of strangers “ Are you drinking?????… Yes?” And we answer “ NOT AS MUCH AS MEEEEEEE!!!!” Somehow this seems really funny.

Onward. The music and nodding heads in the car must’ve told quite a story to fellow motorists, who, depending on their disposition either got the wave or the ”hoof” (MOOOO!!!!)

We head home. Well…. actually, we make it to Stokers, which is much the same thing. After more stories and more beer and chocolate cake cocktails, we part ways bonded together by the shared Berg experience.

As I wake on Monday, rough as a goat’s knee, I long for the mountains.

When can we go again?

Alan Petrie

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