The Dragon’s Missing Thumb
Back at Giant’s Castle – again! Every time I drive in there I think to myself “why do I keep coming back to this same spot”, then on the escarpment I think to myself “why do I ever go anywhere else!”
The objective:
- Day 1: climb Thumb Pass, Thumb Spur Peak and camp near the river flowing down between Thumb Spur and Bannerman Face
- Day 2: khulu bag Bannerman Face and Sanqebethu, descend North Hlubi Pass and head back to the car park
As usual the Dragon had other plans. We drove in to find cloud at about 1900m. Awesome, we’ll be through the mist in no time and the pass will be nice and sunny. Wishful thinking!
As we got up Bannerman Ridge into the mist, the mist decided to rise with us. Only around 2000m did we hit the mist. When we hit the contour path the mist was really thick. We agreed that we shouldn’t try to find the pass in thick mist, so opted to detour on the contour path to Langies Pass. I knew how the story of us climbing Thumb Pass would probably go – something like “we eventually found the gully and followed it till we reached 2900m. The summit gully proved elusive and we decided safety over objectives. We headed back down to Bannerman Hut and hiked back to the carpark from there the next morning”. I wasn’t up for that being the story of this weekend.
At the T-junction between Bannerman Ridge and the Contour Path we tried to fix the backpack failure that Mike experienced (the problem had first occurred not far from the start of the hike). The one metal support had pushed through the bottom of the pack. We had tried taping it up, but that failed, so we tried bandaging it. This held for the rest of the weekend. By now most of us had wet feet, and to top it off a large rock hit Fitness on the shin while he was bandaging up Mike’s pack. A good start indeed!
As we traversed to Langies Pass the mist continued to rise. It rained for half an hour, then stopped, then started again, then stopped again. This pattern continued throughout the day.
The mist rose slightly as we continued along the contour path. Not a good sign for those of us looking forward to the sunshine on the escarpment.
At the base of Langies Pass we realised that Mike was really struggling. He’s too proud to ask for help, but it was clear he needed help. So without asking him we took most of his food, water, clothes etc from his pack so he would be carrying the weight of a day pack up the pass. After all, he’s 12, his pack weights over half of what he does.
As we all know, Langies can be done in 2 hours with overnight packs and a fit eager group. However, when 2 group members look like they are finished, everybody is wet and consequently a tad demoralised, not to mention having walked 3km further than planned due to opting out of Thumb Pass – the group speed is not going to be great.
We stopped for lunch just past the waterfall at the start of the pass. There is no dry spot, so we all sit on the best spots we can find. I take my shoes off and empty some of the muddy water that my Hi-Tecs failed to keep out. Waterproof my eye! And yes, I was wearing gaiters.
Langies, even when wet, is an easy straight forward pass. No trouble. With mist everywhere, even though the path isn’t hard to follow, I don’t want the group to spread out. Simon (Fitness) took the faster hikers, I made sure the 2 slower hikers kept going and were ok.
“Small steps, short breaks, keep going, you’re doing well” – I sound like Jo and Mavis when they helped me get up Isicutula Pass on day 1 of GT last year!
The pass took over 3 hours. By the top Kim was really finished, Mike had also taken heavy strain –everyone else was tired, but relieved to finally be near a spot where we could all get dry and warm.
As we hit the escarpment we discussed the fact that this is an MCSA hike – I thought Kim and Birte where MCSA members, but as it turns out, our group of 7 on an MCSA hike included exactly 0 MCSA members.
I knew the spot where I wanted to camp, and decided that my GPS would only assist in getting us lost. The mist was thick on top, so as a group we walked slowly so that everyone could keep up. We simply traversed at the altitude of the top of the pass until we hit the river, found a good spot on the river and set up camp. I made sure that everyone was aware that the spot is on the river and hence if they go for a “short walk” and can’t find the camp all they need to do is traverse at that altitude until they hit the river, and then walk up and down it until they find us – memories of myself and Neil getting lost at the top of Hlathimba Pass on day 4 of GT2012 come to mind. Fortunately no one got lost.
In keeping with my “gas-stove-free-hiking” theory, I took some tinned chicken, salad and rolls up for supper. A proper chicken burger for supper – I have to say that was probably the nicest supper I have ever had on the escarpment – well, excluding Sani Top.
It continued to rain off and on throughout the night. Kim tells me that it cleared up to reveal a beautiful starry sky – but everyone else seems to have missed out on this.
Our campsite
The next morning it was wet and cold outside, but for the first time during daylight there was no mist around. The stunning view from our campsite became clear.
Cloud in the valley below
The goal was to leave by 6:30, or so I told everyone! Realistically it takes 2 hours to pack up a campsite and eat breakfast. I don’t know why, but it always seems to. We left just after 7, Simon and Sbonelo where the first team to finish packing up and in MCSA tradition they were awarded a small Lunch Bar each as a prize.
Soon we were slogging up the Senqebethu Ridge. Every time I looked back the view would be better than the time before. Every time I saw a summit in front of me I would look at my GPS and realise it was yet another false top. Almost 3 hours later we were finally at around 3200m, so surely the peak in front of us is the real top? No such luck, but now at least I could see the actual summit – and the view that accompanies it.
The view south from near the top of Bannerman Face
I remark to Sbonelo that it looks as if his mother will win the prize for first person up Bannerman Face Peak, before I was even half way through the sentence he decided to run for it, narrowly edging his mother out and earning a piece of Fudge and Pecan-nut Shortbread.
The view north from Bannerman Face
The view from the top of Bannerman Face is well worth the effort. I highly recommend this one – edging out Thumb Spur Peak for a spot in my top 3 list of favourites.
The group on top of Bannerman Face, left to right (back): Sabine, Sbonelo, Birte, Simon, (front) Kim, Mike and myself
We sat on the summit and admired the view for a while. I looked at my beloved Popple and enjoyed the accompanying view of peaks such as Mafadi and Cathkin. I looked over Gypaetus Pass and once again realised that the pass is actually really steep. I had somehow come to a conclusion in my head that the pass wasn’t as steep as I first thought, but looking at it again I could see why I put it down as a 7/10 difficulty. That is a pass I really want to do again – the view from it is incredible, and to think, we had no view till we were above the clouds at 2800m on the pass in September last year.
We hid our packs behind a rocky outcrop near the summit of Bannerman Face and went up the great Senqebethu peak. I have done enough 3300+m peaks to know that they often don’t have much of a view. My split of such peaks had the good ones as Popple, Redi and Mashai, and the not so great ones at Mafadi, Lithabalong and Yodeller’s Ridge Peak. So going into it I knew that Bannerman Face would be the highlight of the day and Senqebethu would probably not be the exceptional.
I’m ultra-happy to say I was wrong – from the summit I could even see Bothlolong, Ship’s Prow and Champagne Castle. The steep drop down into the Langies Valley also provided a spectacular view in that direction. So it turns out that the tiny looking lump of rock on the summit of the Senqebethu ridge, only just within SA actually does have a genuinely worthwhile view. As I always say – to this day I have never regretted bagging a khulu.
the group on top of Senqebethu, left to right: Sbonelo, Sabine, Simon (Fitness), Birte, Kim, Ghaznavid and Mike (Hobbit)
The view north - note Bothlolong in the distance
The prize for first person on the summit (a packet of Enerjellies this time) went, once again, to Sbonelo. Apparently doing parkour every week is really good training for hiking!
We headed back to our packs and began the walk into the valley. The plan: if we can find the summit gully of Thumb Pass, use that pass, otherwise use North Hlubi Pass.
As we came off the ridge the escarpment became very misty. This didn’t concern me at all as I still had a GPS co-ordinate for South Hlubi Pass and remember the way to find the top of the pass from the south pass. As we hit the river the mist cleared. We agreed that if we find a gully that may lead to the pass, Sbonelo and I would explore it and only then take the group down the pass.
We stopped for a brief break at a beautiful rest spot just north of Thumb Spur Peak, it was a large flat rock right by the escarpment edge.
The mist clears as we set off to find Thumb Pass
We refilled our water bottles where the water was flowing enough that the water was drinkable. The mist cleared for long enough to take some photos and we set off to find the gully in clear weather.
Each gully top we looked at proved to be the top of a rock face, we didn’t even need to try and descend to discover this.
The Thumb from the escarpment edge
As we reached Thumb Spur Peak the mist picked up again. We did look at the gully on the south side of the peak, even though I knew it would not lead to the pass. Nothing promising was found.
The mist was now getting really bad, so I told my GPS I was looking for South Hlubi Pass and the plan was to go to the top of the south pass and work my way back from there to find the north pass. What do you know – my GPS tells me 100m to go and there in front of me is the unmistakable summit gully of North Hlubi Pass. It’s distinct from the south pass in that it runs parallel to the escarpment edge above it for the first short section, as opposed to the south pass which runs perpendicular to the escarpment edge for its top gully.
I discuss the options with the group and we all agree that the north pass is the way to go. Simon reminds me that I must take safety into account over anything else, I consider the options, but unless we take Langies, I know from my research of the north pass that both Hlubi passes are roughly the same.
We drop down the first gully and I realise how easy it would be to traverse into the south pass. Thoughts that in hindsight could have made a difference, but how could I have known what was coming.
We quickly achieve an altitude of around 2800m as the mist clears. Awesome – lets enjoy the view! Before I had even finished taking photos of the view I heard thunder and it began to rain – but this was no ordinary rain, large drops were falling everywhere, I don’t want my mind to continue thinking what I am thinking. But before I had time to consider whether or not I was right, my thoughts became a reality.
I hear the sounds of people moaning as they get pounded, I lean forward so that my pack takes most of the impact, my raincoat hood also helps. The hail is getting worse. As hike leader I am supposed to get the group into a circle, each person should close together and thus we protect each other. While I am thinking what to do, I see Simon has acted quickly, 4 of the 7 are already huddled around each other, I call the others and soon all 7 of us are in a tight circle. Only our heads are getting pounded now, and not too badly, but still enough to hurt. The hail is the size of small marbles, but the quantity falling is high.
Sbonelo suddenly pulls out a large tarp and starts putting it over the group. We use 2 trekking poles and 2 of us hold ends of the tarp. This is actually one hang of a good shelter. I think to myself how lucky I am to have such proactive members in the group. We are almost in a comfortable shelter in the middle of the hail storm. Some of us are laughing and telling jokes, I look around notice Mike and Kim aren’t looking happy at all. I try to keep the group spirits up, and remark that this is actually quite a cool experience. It doesn’t work, those who were smiling are still smiling, and those who look worried don’t seem to be any happier.
As the hail begins to slow down I say that there is a nearby cave, it usually stops hailing for a few minutes and then starts up again. We agree to head for the cave.
The pass after the hail
As we get close to the cave we realise that the approach will be tricky with the amount of melting hail on the ground. In retrospect this was a really good call. Small amounts of hail are still falling and group morale is definitely low. I put my camera away – the group needs my full attention, this isn’t the time for photos, no matter how perfect the conditions are.
As we reach the narrowest part of the pass (straight below the cave) I begin to fall behind the group as I worry about Kim and Mike – both of them don’t seem to be in good shape.
The route plan was to head out over the grassy ridge coming off the Thumb rather than follow the river past this final major rock band. The goal then would be to follow the ridge and come out near the junction of the contour path with Bannerman Ridge.
Simon asks me which way we need to go and I tell him to stay on the north side of the ridge. If subsequent events had gone differently these may have become words that I regretted for the rest of my life.
Simon, Sbonelo and Birte head over a very exposed and slippery grass ridge. Sabine finds a better route that follows the river. I look at the 2 routes and decide that I am less likely to slip on the high route – the lower route is very slippery. Sabine tells Kim to rather take her route. She tries to get Mike to follow her route as well, but he doesn’t listen – instead he follows the route I chose.
I reach the highest point of the traverse. The footholds are small and covered in melting hail. There is a small stream flowing over this spot and I look down at the river far below me. This route would not be necessary or particularly difficult in dry weather.
As I look down my worst fear is realised – I watch young Mike slip and fall. It’s at least 10 metres (I initially thought closer to 20metres). The fall seemed to happen in slow motion, not only did I fear the worst, but I knew this fall was bad.
The spot where Mike fell as seen from South Hlubi Pass - photo taken in June 2012
He continues to fall, fortunately he remains feet first and pack against the rock. He hits the rock at the bottom and falls into the riverbed. He doesn’t move, I shout “Mike, Mike, Mike”, and after what felt like a very long wait, but was probably a few seconds I hear a faint voice say “sorry”. I am relieved to know he survived, but immediately realise that as the hike leader I am now at least 10 minutes from helping him.
Suddenly my fears are realised once more – my focus on the events below caused me not to focus on my own footholds and I began to fall. By reflex I smash my trekking pole into the ground and manage to stop my fall. In retrospect I don’t know how I was actually staying on the rock as I only held a few blades of grass in one hand and had a pole in the ground on the other side – I didn’t even have a foot in proper contact with the ground. The only thought I have is “I lift up my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip” (Psalm 121:1-3). I have no other explanation for not taking the same fall that Mike had just taken.
I get to a more stable spot and Simon confirms that Mike is ok, he stands up, looking very shaken, but still able to walk. I don’t know what I would have done if Simon wasn’t on the scene so quickly.
Having watched what just happened my footing became so nervous that it took what felt like an hour to reach the riverbed. By this time Mike was already walking and was now quite far ahead of me. I was shaken and very worried about the youngest member of our group. Sabine and Simon took charge as I caught up and gradually began to get my focus back. The only way I was able to return to a proper state of mind was by consistently reminding myself that indecisive leadership would put the entire group in danger.
The original plan of traversing around the Thumb ridge towards the Bannerman Tarn is clearly not safe in these conditions, we instead opt for the slightly longer route of following the nose of the ridge between the two Hlubi passes until we hit the contour path. From there we’ll take Langies ridge.
Along the way some of the guys in the group spot snakes, but otherwise the hike is uneventful. We eventually hit the contour path and are relieved to finally have a good path to walk on.
Mist overruns the top of the 2 Hlubi Passes
As we walk along my mind is still very much on Mike’s fall. I question whether or not it is my fault and whether or not North Hlubi Pass was a good call. I realise that the spot where the incident happened is very similar to a spot near the top of Rhino Pass. I also realise that this fall could have happened anywhere and to anyone. Our other options would have been South Hlubi which is steeper, but less exposed. But still, a fall there could have been very serious with the sharp rocks in the riverbed. Langies does also have spots where a fall on slippery ice could be very serious.
Would the incident be as likely on Langies? Probably not. South Hlubi? I doubt it, but it’s not impossible.
At the end of the day it is easy to say that a hike leader can’t take the blame for such an incident (although I know that some people who read this will probably think otherwise). But when you are the one who has allowed a 12 year old to join on a hike and you watch him take a nasty fall like that – knowing it will probably be a bad memory he carries for life – even though he came out without any injuries it is still something that hits you, and hits you hard.
North Hlubi Pass in itself is not a dangerous pass, well no more than Rhino Pass or Tsepeng Pass. The call to use the pass was made long before the hail storm and thus was not taken into account in the decision. I rate it as a 5/10 ***. The 3 star rating due to the view of the Thumb on the way down. The South pass is probably a 5/10 ** - but I have only done the South Pass with a day pack, so it’s hard to tell.
From the contour path we followed Langies Ridge to get back to the car park. Nothing major to say about this part of the hike.
Overall thoughts on the hike
I always like the World War 2 Wargames scoring system as a means to evaluate hikes. There are 5 possible outcomes (comments in brackets indicating its equivalent in hiking) – major victory (you achieved all or most of your significant goals), minor victory (you achieved some of your goals), draw (you didn’t achieve any of your goals, but no one was injured in any way), minor defeat (one or more people had a moderate injury, or a snake bite occurred but was resolved without permanent damage to the individual) and major defeat (someone or more than one person was severely injured or worse).
As far as our objective go, only Thumb Pass wasn’t achieved, but we did get a good look at the prospect of the pass and thus this goal was partially addressed. And as for injury – there was a major incident, but no injury occurred and thus it does not fall into the defeat category.
Therefore, based on the above, the hike was a major victory. And while many of you reading this will think to yourself that I could not possibly feel this way after a hike in which such a serious incident occurred – the old saying that most people don’t succeed because they don’t define success is clearly relevant here. I defined success going into the hike and it was what was achieved. Did the incident take away part of my enjoyment of the hike? I don’t think I’d even need to answer that, but at the end of the day you can’t allow unfortunate events that could have been worse to stop you from enjoying your success. Fact: we bagged 2 difficult khulus, Fact: we finally opened (well, probably re-opened) North Hlubi Pass.
Footnotes
I have tried to write the above report as honestly and openly as possible. Considering that this is an online forum this is probably not a wise move, but I have done it deliberately for a few reasons. I have also not published this write-up for a few days since the hike to allow myself to have sufficient clarity of thought regarding the events of the hike.
It’s easy for us as hikers to have a feeling on invincibility. We see and hear about near misses and we think to ourselves that they will never happen to us. It’s easy to forget why this mountain range is called the Dragon and at the end of the day I have a relative who died years before I was born by tripping over a pile of bricks just 2 bricks high – he landed on his head and broke his neck.
I also feel that we all prepare ourselves for the usual scenarios. We all know how to set up camp in the rain, what to do in a hailstorm or if someone is bitten by a snake. But these kinds of problems are easy to forget about. Sometimes you cope that bit better when you thought of how to handle a situation in advance. Be prepared and hopefully you will never need to use this preparedness. I like Kobus’ quote “experience is knowledge you gained after you needed it”.
Lastly, I feel that, as with all things in life, you need to evaluate the risks and rewards of your activities. The fact of the matter is that a wargamer could die while driving to a practice or tournament; you could just as easily be run over while crossing the road on your way to buy lunch at the shop over the road from where you work. Everybody dies, but not everybody truly lives.
So I challenge you, let this event that has been a reminder to me be one to you too. You don’t know how many days you have left on this planet. Don’t simply allow yourself to get into the rut of working to buy food so that you have energy to work. Go and play cricket in the garden with your kids, go to the Berg as often as you can, live life on purpose. The dishes can probably wait another hour.
I will leave you all on a famous Churchill quote: “I’m an optimist, I don’t see much point in being anything else”.
A better idea of the fall - see the red line:
(but it wasn't me) - I think they did repair it before we left...
- the view of you is better than the view from you, even if not by much
