Wild

A Visit to the Wild

Last Thursday was Heritage day, which was a public holiday. Robin spent the day hiking with one of our fellow volunteers, Maren. They had such a great time, they convinced their respective roommates (myself and Nora) to head back for a weekend backpacking trip.

I was so excited that I woke up before 5:30am and started making last minute preparations for our trip to the Rustonburg Nature Reserve. The night before we had set up the tent and lit Robin’s stove, just to make sure our gear was in order. Everything else was pretty make-shift. No homemade beef jerky this time.

By 8am the four of us were on our way to the taxi rank, where you can catch a min-bus taxi to just about anywhere from only a few blocks from our house. When you find the right mini-bus taxi (a trial and error, ask around process), you climb on board and wait for it to fill up. Once it’s filled, it’s departure time. We only had to wait about fifteen minutes from when we crammed our four bodies and backpacks into the back seat and were heading to Rustonburg. An hour and a half full of great conversations and we were once again looking for the right mini-bus taxi that would take us to the Nature Reserve.

Once we got to the entrance we had to get creative. You’re only allowed to enter the park if you’re in a vehicle for some reason. And our ride was already heading back into town. We also learned you have to have reservations to spend the night. After some negotiating we were allowed to enter the park standing in the bed of a pick up truck belonging to a family heading in to do some mountain biking. The stress of travel and ridiculous regulations evaporated with the heat as we coasted around curves in the dry and wide open landscape of the Magaleisburg “mountains” (whoever named this place has never been to the Great Northwest).

We hiked all day long, stopping as often as we wanted to take pictures and marvel at the beauty of the red earth and deep blue sky, stretching to the horizon. And no buildings or smog to block our view! We were all keeping our eyes open for zebras, as Robin and Maren had seen some on their previous trip. But the first big animals we saw did not look like zebras. What a funny walk that animal has.... It’s a baboon! None of us knew much about how dangerous baboons are. And sadly, Dad, all your drilling me on what to do if I ever run into bears or cougars in the wild, was no help to me here. We decided to keep a safe distance and marveled as the whole pack (herd? posse?) moved slowly up the hill ahead of us. We eventually did see zebras, springbok and other antelope as well.

We stopped for lunch in a group camping site that was bumping some serious tunes out the back of an SUV. Then we meandered through another empty camping ground (“Sorry, we’re full. You need reservations”) and finally found what we thought was the right trail. When we had bush wacked our way to the top of a steep hill, I realized I no longer had my camera. I decided to go back alone while the other girls napped. On my way down the hill, I suddenly saw in front of me a giant deer. I felt like a lilliputian (the same way I feel when I’m with my brother’s in-laws). Even the baby deer following the massive doe wasn’t so small. I continued on and soon ran into two male deerzillas. I then recognized them as the elands that were in our little guide book. After a few pictures with Robin’s phone (which she’d given me in case I got lost), I continued my search. I reminded myself of what my parents always told me whenever I broke or lost something, or carelessly left something out to be stolen (all of which happened frequently when I was a kid). “It’s just a thing. What matters is that you’re safe.” Thanks Mom and Dad. In the end I did find the camera sitting on the picnic table where we’d examined our map. There wouldn’t be any baboons playing paparazzi this time.

Once I joined the others we walked awhile and then hitched a ride to the river, where there was said to be a waterfall. We stepped around the “No Entry” sign and were soon swimming in the pools created by the clear river that had beat the red rocks into perfect places to lay out and dry in the sun. After an hour or so we reluctantly got dressed and walked and then hitched our way back to a camp ground, which was filled with car campers. Some of these people had brought their entire homes with them, by the looks of it. We were definitely the lightest packed. After a delicious dinner of beef-chicken-tuna stew, we watched the sun set and the stars appear. I can’t wait to learn more about these constellations. It feels like being on another planet, looking up and not recognizing the stars.

We only had two sleeping bags and two blankets. It didn’t work out as well as we’d hoped. It gets cold at night! If it hadn’t been for the bumpy ground uncushioned by any sleeping pads or the gnawing cold, I might have slept through our late night visit. At first the metal banging noise was just a part of my dream. But then I opened my eyes and saw that Nora’s face registered a confused expression that told me I wasn’t the only one hearing it. We both shot up to look out the tent window to see what animal was ransacking our trash can. Nora saw it first. Zebra! We couldn’t believe it. I had no idea zebras were scavengers. It was hard to get back to sleep after that.

We were all up, breakfasted and on the trail by 7:30am. By 9am we’d already hiked up and down ridges and found the mushroom rocks we’d seen in our little pamphlet. We decided to head back to the river to enjoy some more swimming before heading home. So we walked back across the park again and found an even better (though colder) swimming pool than before. We also found the waterfall we’d been told about. By the time we hitched a ride out of the park and back to Rustonburg we figured we’d walked around 25km over the two days. Not bad, hey?

We returned home feeling tired, but renewed. I love the city, but it is so good to get out and see beyond the next street once in awhile. I also think it was good for my whole respiratory system to breathe a bit of fresh air. And I won’t soon forget the sight of a zebra licking our tuna cans clean.