108
—Lancaster Farming, Saturday, July 15,1978
IFYE participant tells of trip
Ed. Note: This is the
second in a series of
newsletters written by Mark
Wilson, Adams County, who
is currently serving as a
delegate in the International
4-H Youth Exchange
program in Swaziland. In the
Spring Mark had the op
portunity to take a 4,267 mile
trip through the Republic of
South Africa, camping for
three weeks. His ob
servations follow.
As of March Ist this year,
South Africa eased its petrol
(gas) restrictions allowing
petrol stations to remain
open all day Friday and
Saturday. Previously
stations were required to
close at noon on Friday and
remain closed until Monday
morning, which would have
forced us not to travel on
weekends.
Camping is a big pastime
for South Africans. We had
no trouble finding camp
grounds. Most towns have a
municipal campground with
excellent facilities Charges
per mght ran from free to
$4.87. Usually we paid about
$2.90.
Our journey took us
through Lesotho, or really
mto Lesotho. The one road
crossing the country can
only be traversed by lan
drover. The Kingdom of
Lesotho is completely
surrounded by South Africa
and can be reached only by
light plane or landrover
We tried matching wits
with that one road that
crosses the countr>. It was a
breathtaking drive as the
sparsely traveled gravel
road twisted around the
rocky peaks and through the
mountain passes All along
the way the huts of the
Basotho and their small
plots of wheat dotted the
steep slopes
But the road proved too
much of a challenge for my
pickup. We were forced to
turn back when we spun out
on a mud-slicked grade after
about 3% hours of driving.
After leaving Lesotho I
though I’d been through the
most striking mountain
country I would ever see. I
thought that only until
reaching the Swartberg
mountains in the
southeastern part of South
Africa
We got our first taste of the
Swartberg as we passed
through Merrmg’s Poort, a
spectacular road pass
following the channel cut
through the mountains by
the Grootstroom (great
stream). The road crosses
and recrosses the stream
twenty-six times beneath
towering cliffs of warped
and twisted rock splashed
with velvety colors of brown,
orange, and yellow blending
and mixing with each other
Although spectacular at
any time, it was even more
so when you consider that we
had just spent most of the
day traveling mile after mile
through the flat, and desert
of the Great Karoo, and now
found ourselves beneath
great sandstone cliffs made
even more stunning by the
long shadows cast by the
setting sun. Quite a marked
change of scenery.
But the drive through
Memngs Poort was by no
means all that Swartberg
had to offer Hidden within
the Swartberg mountains is
a once-lost valley called Die
Hel (the abyss) The valley
has a very interesting
history.
During the Anglo-Boer
War a band of Boer guerillas
found themselves hotly
pursued by British soldiers
Since all the mountain
passes were closely guarded
by the British, they decided
to lead their horses directly
over the range and escape
mto the Great Karoo where
they hoped to rejoin the main
body of their commandos led
by General Smuts
Darkness set in before
they had made the summit
and clouds swept in and
enveloped the peaks They
shivered in the dampness
until dawn, then started
making their way down the
other side of the mountain. It
wasn’t until almost four
o’clock in the afternoon that
they were below the clouds
They expected to see the
Great Karoo, but instead
found themselves looking
down on a narrow valley A
few primitive-looking mud
huts were scattered across
the valley floor.
They went down to in
vestigate and were greeted
by a giant, shaggy white
man who spoke to them in a
strange, long drawn-out
Dutch It seems his name
was Cordier and he was head
of a small community living
m the valley. For two nights
the visitors remained as
guests, then Cordier and
several of his sons guided
them along secret paths
across the rugged mountains
to the Great Karoo.
The history of this hillbilly
community was strange.
According to them, a party
of trek-boers (nomadic
farmers) had been won
dering along the northern
slopes of the Swartberg
about the beginning of the
19th century. Several of their
animals made their way
along the Gamka River to
the hidden valley. Following
the tracks of their missing
livestock, the trek-boers
discovered the valley and
decided to settle there. It
was uninhabited although
numerous paintings in the
caves, as well as wooden peg
ladders up the rock faces to
reach wild hives, were in
dications of the former
presence of Bushmen Shut
in the mountains and quite
self-sufficient they had been
forgotten by tne outside
world
In 1962 a road of hair
raismg heights, twists, rises,
and drops was built back to
the Valley of Hel It’s 30
miles of the most exciting
road I’ve ever been on
Although the whole length of
road is breathtaking, the
final descent into the valley
of Hel is awesome To say
that the road was a steep,
twisty, narrow path gouged
out of a cliff face is
Qqollenberger
"H" TYPE FEED BUNKS
~~ ' Approximate weight 4000 lbs
eaturing
• Large Capacity
• Steel Reinforced a roof and feeder
• Movable for future expansion • No corners to retain spoiled feed
INSTALLATION OF BUNKS
We have the necessary equipment to handle and install these heavy bunks
Customer shall make roadway to feed lot passable for our delivery truck
somewhat of an
exaggeration - but not much’
As we traveled up the floor
of the valley, I didn’t think
that the stony soil and
scrubby vegetation looked
quite like the Promised
Land. Nevertheless a
handful of people withdrawn
from society still call the
valley home
Suddenly I slammed on the
brakes. All four wheels
grabbed at the loose gravel
trying to get a hold as we slid
to a halt. There, squarely m
the center of the road was a
baboon skull looking
CONCRETE
in S. Africa
strangely human with its
gray hair still clinging to its
scalp, empty, ominous eye
sockets staring out of
nowhere into nothing, the
grinning teeth bidding us an
eerie welcome
With my heart pounding, I
took a long look sizing up the
situation in the pale light
from an overcast late af
ternoon sky Slowly I drove
around the guardian of Hel
hoping not to offend any
spirits lurking in the
shadows.
Just as we started the
climb out of the valley back
Chambersburg, Pa. 17201
Phone 717-264-9588
• Strong enough to support
to the outside world, the sun
suddenly burst through the
clouds setting the mountains
ablaze in a plae, ghostly sort
of light casting long shadows
and giving an even eerier
atomsphere to the day’s end
As we turned for one last
look across Hel, we caught
the last rays of the sun
before it was extinguished
behind a distant peak. The
night quickly rushed in to
take control, but not before
the sun had painted the
retreating storm clouds with
vivid colors.
R. R. 2