It seemed strange to be on the top of a mountain and to hear the chinking of frogs.
But that’s what began as the sun set, bathing Stone Mountain Lodge in a last golden glow.
The source of the unmistakable noise was the little swimming pool on the lodge veranda and the chinkers could be seen lined up at the water’s edge, like a row of choir boys.
I had read recently that a new population of a critically endangered species of frog had been discovered in the Groot Winterhoekberge — which were exactly the mountains we were on top of.
Could this be the northern moss frog? Probably not I realised because there is a Groot Winterhoek Wilderness Area in the Western Cape, and that was the spot they were talking about.
In fact, there is also the Winterberg range here in the Eastern Cape, north of Komani, so it is very confusing.
Our old frontiersmen and geographers needed to confer more before deciding what things were going to be called, I feel.
Our frogs with no name went on while the sun sank behind Strydomskop, drawing the last gorgeous blue and pink from the sky and dousing the distant Karoo in darkness.
Then they abruptly stopped, or perhaps we just got used to them, or could no longer hear them with the door half closed, and the fire crackling in the hearth.
0 of 3
Stone Mountain Lodge is a magical place at Kleinrivier Mountain Escapes.
It would be interesting to determine how many Kleinriviers there are in SA. Surely there are several dozen but this is a really special one and it is only an hour-and-a-half drive from Gqeberha, even at my measured pace in my old sedan.
The lodge is your overnight stay if you’re hiking the Two Gorges Trail.
It’s built around a massive boulder which forms part of one wall and gives a wonderful sense of solidity.
The wolf wind could huff and puff up here but you would always be well and truly attached to the mountain.
It was midwinter freezing cold but when we arrived we all had a celebratory jump in the pool and then the kids stoked up the donkey and got the water piping hot in no time for a shower.
We had covered a lot of ground in a short time. The previous evening we had slept at the bottom of the mountain in two Dassiekrantz chalets, the snug little cabins tucked into the riverine bush between the reception and the head of the trail.
It was not easy to get up before dawn because the chalets were so cosy but once we were in our hiking gear, had made a cup of tea and were sorting out our packs, the excitement had warmed us up.
An hour later, down at reception, the manager, Juan Marx, briefed us carefully on the route and gave us a map and the all-important key to the lodge.
My boys and I were old Kleinrivier hands and we had even done the hike to the top once before, when they were young.
However, on that occasion we took a wrong turn and had to clamber up a precipitous “dinosaur spine” of rocks, which was not only hair-raising but also added two hours to the hike.
It was an adventure which remained a treasured part of our family lore, but which we did not want to repeat.
0 of 3
The weather was also uncertain and with only one night booked at the lodge, we needed to be as efficient as possible.
Wandering around high in the Groot Winterhoekberge after dark in the middle of winter would not be advisable. So we listened up.
We hiked up past Black Eagle Tented Camp, under the canopy of indigenous trees, over huge roots, past sprays of sosatie bush and fat brown mushrooms in rock crannies, criss-crossing the river, pausing now and then at rock overhangs, surely ideal shelters long ago.
Under a couple of the overhangs were black mounds of hyraceum, which is dassie scat and urine, cemented together over centuries.
This material was used in ancient times to make perfume and various traditional medicines, and there is some medical research today focused on its use to treat epilepsy.
Nelson Mandela University palaeo-ecologist Dr Lynn Quick is also spearheading the investigation of hyraceum as a window into fluctuations in weather systems over the millenia, how they affected the local vegetation, and what we can consequently expect from climate change.
Up and up we tramped, with the sparkling Kleinrivier always with us, burbling down through the undergrowth.
0 of 4
Higher and higher we trekked, stopping now and then for a rest and to refuel, and then pushing on.
Keeping our eyes open for klipspringer and mountain zebra, we hiked between towering cliffs, through groves of proteas, across hillsides of cycads and tierhout, past countless little kloofs which threaded down from each side into the gorge.
The buttressing cliffs gradually opened until we came to a steep, broad cul de sac where I guessed the first seeps would start in wet weather, charging the head of the Kleinrivier.
Having summited, we walked along the ridge with an eagle sailing on a thermal on our left and the Groendal Wilderness Area far below stretching west through endless wrinkles of rock and stone.
Nearly six hours after we set out that morning, we reached the lodge, a little sore and very tired but grateful a hundred times over that we had done it.
That night I managed three pages of Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations in bed before I fell asleep while the lodge hugged the mountain, our frogs enjoyed a moonlight swim, and Earth turned on its axis, as comfortable, so it seemed to me, as it had ever been.
The Herald
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.