THINKING BACK ON OUR JOURNEY...Once we reached Upington, we had an idea already that we wanted to go and see the flowers in Springbok, but we have a rule, that we wouldn’t cycle the same road twice, unless it was vital. The coincidences which presents us with the means to do what we thought of doing, is something that always surprise me. We were talking with people, about our doubts regarding the cycle to Springbok, when in a matter of a week, it was arranged that we would canoe along the Orange River, as far as ….., have our bicycles sent ahead, and so we would not be required to break our rule. Karsten Boerderye has decided to sponsor all our gear, and accommodation, as they had two guest lodges on the banks of the Orange. Spar sponsored our necessities, and Bezalel sponsored wine, and a video camera.
Fantastic, we thought, unless of course you count the fact that neither one of us knew how to paddle, at all. This became yet another great challenge for us. There were the rapids, which took some time getting used to, the oversized lizards, and those human sized baboons with a red ass, and blue cheeks. It was in the middle of winter, so the water was really cold, but the days were super hot, and at night the tent would be frozen. This was also a completely different task than we imagined. We were canoeing in a croc, which was heavily laden, I might add, and it wasn’t one of the fastest vessels around. The croc also had a slow puncture, which we tried to patch many times, but nothing seemed to work, so we had to re-inflate at least 3-4 times a day.
The river wasn’t in flood, so it took almost a week to cover the distance that others would do in 2 days. We were given a satellite map, which didn’t help at all, it only had us confused, and got us lost, traipsing for days around dead end streams. After day 2, we started drinking water straight from the river, and it was all good, except that everything acquired the taste of a muddy river. In our search for the farm Raap en Skraap, which would appear on the left hand side, more or less 3 to 5 days from departure, we came across some very interesting individuals, not many though, maybe a total of 4, and they all seemed shocked to see us emerging from the river, apparently we got our calculations messed up again, and picked the wrong season for our little rendezvous!
It’s all good, because things are the way they are for a reason, and here we were, platzed into the deep end, spiraling towards overcoming the elements, and surviving out here on our own. I suppose most intelligent beings know that you require a guide for this kind of thing, especially when you’re clueless, but we’re good.
After 8 days on the Orange, we reached our destination, and we were so glad to find some sort of comfort, like a hot bath, a bed, good food, and fabulous company. What would’ve been a one night stop over, turned 3 days, and it was what our burnt, warn out bodies deserved for our efforts. When it came time to leave again, we weren’t all that optimistic, because we were told that there was a waterfall/gorge a couple of days ahead, and that getting there was a little tricky, as there were many rapids going down into the gorge.
We had to stay on the right hand side when we came closer, and just before we go down to the falls, we must take the canoe out of the water, and carry it around, where we shall find a contraption where we can abseil ourselves and our gear down into the gorge.
We did everything correct, except go down at the right place. From the top, we could see a massive rapid in the distance. We managed to find an easy access to the river, and walked ahead to stare at this rapid for a while, trying to think how anyone could go through that, and survive. When we finally, stupidly, decided that we should go, we headed down towards the canoe, tied everything down, which could fall out, Maria held on to Dante and Katryn, and I paddled towards the monster. As soon as I steered into the rapid, the canoe got sucked right from under us, leaving us emerged in the water, being smashed against rocks, and sucked under. Just when you think it’s over, it’s starts all over again. I finally found myself on the banks , hauled myself out of the water, and saw Maria heading towards another big one, a dog in each hand.
I ran as fast as I could, and when I reached them, it didn’t look good. Maria’s legs were smashed, the dogs were in shock, and the canoe was nowhere in sight, gone. We waited for the shock and pain to subside a little, hiked up to the top of one of the mountains, to see if we could spot our canoe, but still nothing. We hiked back towards the campsite to see if we could still find any warm coals from our campfire, and we were in luck, because all we had with us, was the clothes we had on, no shoes, nothing warm, no food, nothing whatsoever! There wasn’t a lot of wood around, bearing in mind that this could very well be a desert, and that the only greenery is along the river banks, and we were stuck in the gorge.
We walked around for two days, without shoes, our feet eventually raw and cut open. There was nobody, anywhere, and we were starting to loose the plot completely. We got burnt to a pulp during the day, and at night we virtually froze to death. It was late on the second day, when the dogs started going crazy. They have been so good all this time, and were more concerned with us, than where their next meal came from. They had found the canoe! Stuck between some rocks, deflated, and all our stuff was gone. Maria had to climb over some serious rocks to get to it. Luckily the pump was still tied to it, so we could inflate it, although the damage was quite substantial, we could still get ahead, slowly but surely.
As we paddled forward, we picked up everything from the water, that we had, even water bottles, an oar, airtight bags, although they were semi submerged in water. We carried on until it was getting dark, then we saw a nice camping spot, cleaned out the bags, only to find that everything got soaked. There wasn’t any food worth eating, or cell phones, or camera’s or anything that would work. Our diaries, and all the records we’ve been keeping, ruined!
It was at this delusional point, where I was convinced that we had died and gone to hell. We managed to dry the tent and sleeping bags by a fire, and even though it wasn’t completely dry, it beat sleeping out in the cold, in only a short and t-shirt. The next morning, very early, we pushed forward, but we were both on the verge of passing out. Just before lunch time, we reached the farm Coboop. These people only had to give us one look, before they fed us, gave us a bathroom to clean up, and a beautiful, soft bed. We passed out for a couple of hours, and then joined them for a barbeque.
This was thus the end of our river journey, because our canoe had seen better days, and Maria refused to go back on the water, I must say, so did I, I just didn’t have to say it out loud. If I could do it all over again, I would, it was that amazing. This has been a tremendous adventure, and nowhere else, have I ever seen such splendor and harsh beauty. The color of the mountains along the riverbanks vary in shades of red, brown, camel, and sand, and the reflection it made on the water was magical. We have seen so many different species of birds, and magnificent reptiles and other fauna. It takes a different kind of animal to be able to survive out here, and to be in the middle of their territory was
