African Road Trip: Part 1

Call me a trusting fool, but I believed "Hentie" when he told me the beetle (car, not insect) was properly prepared for a roughly 4000 Km (2500 miles) journey from Stellenbosch, South Africa, to Maun, Botswana. Geoff and I would have to stop every 100 Km's to let the engine cool, not take her over 90 Km's per hour and perhaps deal with any "minor" mechanical issues, but we were to call if there was anything big to deal with. The car would "definitely" make it. Less than 2 hours later when the car wouldn't start, maybe we should have taken it as a bad omen? But, once the guy from Best Beetle drove out and showed us it was just a wire that needed jiggling, we breathed a sigh of relief and continued eating our Simbas and Koeksusters (chips & doughnuts) and planned to leave the next morning. Below is the intended 2,280 Km route to Maun, Botswana.

We didn't have to be in Maun until June 29th for the safari, but Geoff innocently suggested that we leave June 18th, so we'd have lots of time. I had no idea he had ulterior motives. June 18th we hit the road for Windhoek, Namibia (I thought) where we would meet up with the Canadians Geoff had met on Lonely Planet.Com. See, he met up with these guys and hitched his wagon to theirs, and snagged me along the way, too.

We stopped in Clanwilliam, South Africa for our first night, and it became clear that traveling here is not like it is in the US. There are no highway signs- or highways really, for "Motel 8's" along the way. We had a map, and a little circle in red if there was accommodation. We'd go into a "Town" and hope there were signs for a B&B or a Backpackers, etc. We lucked out our first night, as our little B&B had electric blankets! Here is a great Lentulidae grasshopper (note the lack of wings) that I found there. The places we stayed along the trip were not nearly as nice as this place- Saint du Barrys B&B.

The next day we drove through Northern South Africa, and once closer to Namibia, FINALLY, the landscape stopped being dominated by vineyards. Here are some things found just at one stop on the side of the road (roads are empty here of businesses/people). On just one stop, I found tons of termites/ants/millipedes/heteropterans/centipedes/a few succulents.

The staff at African borders have all the charm of wet socks. They are beyond indifferent to people and seem to want

you to have difficulties. You fill out a form, get a grunt, and ask if you're done- and get another grunt in reply. No one tells you about some random PRE-stamped form you need, or to hold onto another piece of paperwork if you'd like to get out of the country. Having said that, the border services in Namibia were by far, the best. They had lots of maps of Namibia and even Windhoek which had great information on accommodation.

Once we were in Namibia, we were struck by how flat it was, compared to South Africa. When we pulled off the road, we found TONS of succulents, and lots of things crawling under rocks. I think Geoff found some shiny stones too.

Night 2 was spent at the Grunau Country House, in Grunau, Namibia. In the picture, you might imagine that I look

around and would see other structures. You'd be wrong. No electric blankets, and Geoff booted me out of the room to clip my nails. Not the best night. BUT, in the morning, as we were pulling out of the gate (yes, gates/barbed wire here too) I saw something very large crawling on the ground. I said calmly but firmly to Geoff, "Stop the car immediately." I think I know what it is, and am equal parts excited to see this thing I've read about and to know the name of this thing from my studies. It's a Hetrodinae, or a Ground Cricket. I scooped it up and took easily 30 pictures then let it go in some shrubbery. Moments later, we saw them littered all over the road. I collected one to be a prisoner for a while, and fed it apples. We stopped shortly after and I let it go, and we literally had to drive around them in the road for half the day they were so prevalent. I fully intended to get one on the way back as a pet. Oh, and Geoff killed a butterfly.

On the map there was a star that read, "Extinct Volcano." We figured it was a short veer-off, so why not check it out. Why not? Because TIA, and most roads are dirt roads and we were in a 1974 VW beetle, that's why. We're stupid though, so we drove to see this volcano (Geoff, among being a physics/chemistry/math nerd, also dabbles in Geology). After only a Km or so on the dead empty road (then again, they all are pretty much empty save for unsupervised cattle), the beetle was like a toaster coming through the atmosphere, so we decided to stop. Before we turned back, we pulled over and just wandered around for a while, since there was not the characteristic fence along the road. Lots of cool things were found, and at one point, Geoff screamed for me to come immediately while I was negotiating a peeing spot by a spiky acacia (I had to compromise). Geoff was screeching over the discovery of a Pomphagidae grasshopper. Again, I'd never seen one in real life, so it was a treat. There were also lots of low lying succulents.

I found a Mantodea, and some ants seemingly raiding a termite nest. The termites didn't seem to be responding to the influx of ants, but we followed 2 ants carrying away a dead termite. It was again great to see things I've only read about.

Driving....driving....driving. Geoff casually says, "Oh, the Sossusvlei Desert isn't that far, we should check it out." He didn't mention it was on his agenda to see the desert the whole time, or that he wanted to spend days there. I say "OK" as we have time, and I'm not yet aware of his treachery.

It's starting to get dark, and the town we arrive in with a little green dot has only signs for lodging, no actual lodging (a frighteningly common occurrence in Africa) and we have to go farther than we intend to. We end up driving for hours, past 6, 7, 7, 8...we wonder if we'll have to set up a tent and the trip takes a tense turn. Finally I spot a hand written sign for "Hammerstein Lodge" and our spirits rise. We keep driving....driving....driving. Did we pass it? No, TIA. Is that another sign? I have to get out of the car and walk INTO the bush to get close enough to see the damned sign with my flashlight. YES! Another sign with an arrow. Driving....driving. We get there at about 10pm and they have room for us. It's the most expensive place we stay the whole time, but it's not like we have another option. We're walked to our chalet, or bungalow or whatever the hell they call these little rooms and I'm excited to see a Springbok lives on the property and follows people around. She's not yet showing us her true colors, and I think she's sweet. We get a cold dinner, but a filling one and go to bed.

In the morning I learn that we're in the town of Sesriem and that the Springbok- Daisy, is a monster. She doesn't like me and rams me, seeing me as a threat to her dominance. I have to stand on steps when she sees me, and hurry to/from the car. "Cujo's" horns were even removed because she mamed some other woman. I also find huge grasshoppers stunned by the cold all over, and that's cool, too.

We drive about an hour (60 Km's) to the Sossusvlei Desert Gates (bumpy dirt roads), pay the entrance fee and drive into the park. Another hour, on tar and then pay more $ to ride a heavy duty shuttle to the inner parts. These pictures are before we're officially into the desert. You'll notice the abundance of small plants- I was surprised too, but it's just been raining, so there are more grasses than normal- but there are grasses here.

We don't have much time, since it's over 2 hours to just get there, so we only see the Deadvlei side that day. We walk (some of us struggle with walking in sand more than others) into the desert and up some dunes. There are Darkling Beetles (Tenebrionidae) scampering on the sand everywhere! They dig into the sand and fall over dunes, righting themselves head over tails. There's also an old mudflat (that for some reason hasn't been covered with sand.... and more grasses. Geoff used my camping air mattress in a failed attempt to sled down a dune while I dug in the sand for insects.

This plant is a mystery to me, though was common. What's weird about it, is that when you touch it, it feels cold and wet, even a little spongy. Imagine slime, but a solid- you look at your hand, expecting to see residue. I'll keep you all posted. LIkewise, there was a strange basidiomycota like growth coming out of the sand. I have no idea on that one, either. Geoff also found a great Orange Dung Beetle- though he's renamed it "Sossusus cyclopsis."

We're happy to go "home" to Hammerstein, though it's a 2 hour drive. We get an amazing hot dinner and have clean laundry to come back to. In the morning, we plan to go out again, as really, we didn't have much time to see the desert, and I was pleasantly surprised at what I saw and was eager, too. In the huge, impressive common area of this fancy lodge, they have some reptiles on display. Geoff asks what sort of snake it is and I tell him it's a Puff Adder. He says no way, that they can't have a poisonous snake like that here. The wrangler guy happens to be nearby, and starts to talk to us about the snakes/couple of lizards. He casually says that it's a puff adder, and it was found on the grounds- as were the other olive (constrictors) snakes and baby monitor lizard. Geoff and I enjoy the full bellies, nice chairs and heated environment for a bit, until I notice that just to the side of Geoff's head, there's a snake waving about in the air. I look at Geoff and say to wait right there, and that I'd be back. I go to the adjacent bar where the wrangler guy is, lean on the bar and say: "Hello. You know the snakes in there? (to which he nods) One is out." He just looks at me and says calmly, "Which one?" I reply, "My demeanor would be much more excited if it were the puff adder." He laughs, gets up and heads to the cage. Geoff is standing on the chair. He and another fellow open the cage, finding that the olive snake has used a chain to get to the top, so they take him out and set to removing the chain. The guy hands me the snake and casually asks me to hold it. I don't actually say yes, he sort of just puts it in my hands while all the blood drains from my face. This was unexpected and slightly unbearable. Several of the longest moments of my life pass, and they return the prisoner to his cage. As we leave, I enter our names in the book and note about the AWOL snakes. In the morning, we learn that the staff saw my note and checked, only to find that both the constrictors HAD in fact gotten out again. Fancy that.

The next day began our car complications. While getting info on a balloon or plane ride over the desert, Geoff notices an oil leak, then while getting gas and inquiring about a mechanic at the entrance gate, I notice one of the tires had patches of exposed tread so deep wires sticking out of it. This was bad, but luckily we were AT a tire place and a mechanic was a phone call away! Too bad it was a tire place in a desert in Africa, as they didn't have a tire that would fit (which in itself was a marvel, seeing as how the car had three different size tires on it) nor the ability to take out the gearbox, where the leak made birth.

Adding oil won't be a big deal, so we focus on the tire, as we'll be stranded without one. We go across the "street" to a larger gas station that also does repairs (they all do repairs when you're out in the bush/desert) but again, they don't have one for us. The owner, Willie is awesome, and calls a local (80+ Km's away on dirt roads) place that does have a (1) tire. We leave immediately as we're losing the light. As usual, no signs to let you know you're heading toward the city you want to be, or even a sign labeling the road. Geoff begins here, on these dusty roads, his pattern of threatening my life, as I'm to blame for all the bad things and the thing which must be overcome to reach the good things. I gently remind him that he was fully on board with the idea of the beetle, but he chooses to focus on methods of killing me (most involve strangulation). After an hour and a half we find the place- ironically, they decorate their entry way with the corpses of old cars, quite similar to the beetle. Bonus, they also have a used tire (new + R900, used = $300, totalling $US 180), so we'll be able to also ditch another tire that is showing a bit of tread.

We eat at a lodge there, and drive back- this time, we camp right outside the entrance to the park. See, Geoff has this stupid desire to see the sun rise in the desert, over the dunes. I couldn't be less interested, as it means getting up at 5 fucking am. Alright though, team player and all, so let's go see this damned thing. Turns out, it's COLD in the desert at night, and it's one of the more horrible nights of my life. My tent isn't thick, and even with my mattress, I'm shivering most of the night, and though he'd never admit it, I know Geoff was cold, too. I could see his breath. In the morning, I tried to pretend I didn't hear the alarm, but he did and we got up. Freezing cold, frost all over the car (FROST), fingers numb putting away the tent while Geoff thought it was hilarious and made me pose for a picture. I was not amused.

We get to the gate, it's not open (shocking) and we have to wait. Why? Because Namibia does a whole daylight savings time thing we weren't aware of, and we're EARLY. I stay calm, but am hating every moment of this blackened hell. We enter, and race against the sun, being passed the whole time by huge 4x4's and group vehicles that look like they're capable of giving a tour of the moon. I can't climb this big dune, so Geoff goes up and I (encased in my sleeping bag) stay on the ground and get some pictures (into the sunrise/away from the sunrise).

This day we go to the Sossusvlei part, where there's a small lake. It slowly warms up, and while it doesn't get hot, it's really warm, and I enjoy the time when Geoff wanders up a dune to ruin his camera with sand, basking in the sunlight. At one point, on a smaller dune, I have a verbal exchange with an unknown figure:

Voice: Sarah?

Me: Yes?

Voice: I wasn't sure if it was you, but then I saw your net and knew it was you.

Me: Gesa?!

Who the hell runs into someone on a dune in Namibia? She also stayed at the Hammerstein Lodge and had seen my note- double whammy. Geoff is enthralled with how some of the sand looks like green grass from a distance and is determined to collect the surface layers. Note the magnifying glass- what a nerd. BUT, I do have to admit that he's a great entomology helper, and did bring me back lots of little insects from the dunes.

There were gnarly acacias all over with curly pods, and grasshoppers nestled into the bark- very well concealed and protected (we prevailed, but returned them to their home).

We head back to our new campsite, a freebie, given to us by the manager of the Oasis station, upon seeing our not-so-mighty-steed. He was pleased that we came back from getting our tire to see the desert more, when we could have just kept going to Windhoek (the capitol of Namibia, where there will be honey, gold and tires galore) and gave us a swank site. Geoff goofed off while I took a horrific shower (cold). After which, I explored the rear of the shack and found an ON/OFF switch to the hot water. Isn't the man supposed to take care of such things? I found me another ground cricket and fed it some of Geoff's cookies and we had a nice night. The scenery shot is the view when you pop your head out of the tent.

In the morning we headed off on the dirt roads to get to Windhoek, to save time. Would this prove to be a good idea, or a terrible idea? Will we reach Maun by the 29th? Stay tuned.

I'm alive, in Maun.

I'm being barked at to update the blog. I'll update just a note now though, as internet in Botswana is even less reliable than it is in South Africa (shocking, aye?). I'm in Botswana, in a town called Maun, which is on the Okavanga River. I wake up each morning in my tent and look out on the waters of the delta, which is at its highest levels in 30 years. There are crocs and hippos in there, but I've yet to see any (here, that is). There are gods-- I mean dogs all over too, and my plan to win them over has paid off. The timid dog, Marge, or Margaret is now my friend. It has nothing to do with the biscuits or peanut butter. I let her sleep in a pile of Geoff's (my obnoxious travel companion) clean clothes while he's on a walking tour with the Canadians we met up with.

I'm not going to post much, as when I get back I'll do a proper posting with pictures. For now, rest assured that I have arrived safely and the beetle, which we erroneously chose as our mighty steed has a future surely to involve some sort of vivisection. I've spent about R4000 on repairs to the beetle/tires so far, while the actual month long rental was R2500. At this point, It'd have been cheaper to have flown- BUT, I'd not have camped in the Sossusvlei Desert, in Namibia had I flown, nor all the insects 'n such.

We leave for the 9 day safari in Northern Botswana on July 4th and come back to this backpackers paradise where I'll be able to update once more before heading back. At this time I have no idea how I'll be returning to SA, as the beetle's latest ailment involves a wobbling back tire and even I know this is too much to risk, especially when driving barren African roads.

Reconstruction Completed

My left ACL has been reconstructed. The hospital was fantastic, really great. Well, one day the nurses forgot about my pain meds all day, but other than that, I was impressed. My room was set up for four people, but they used tall built in bookshelves and curtains to keep privacy. Typical stuff like TV's and cabinets- but also great grassy/nature views and carpets (yes, carpeting in the room). The meals they served were waaay more fancy than I've ever enountered in my multiple hospital stays, and they brought you coffee/tea every morning/evening (ceramic teapot, with the fixin's).

Having many surgeries, I feel I'm in a position to compare experiences a bit. Here, you check in briefly, and are taken (walking, not wheeled) to your room rather than to the pre-op area, close to the OR. A nurse comes in and asks lots of questions, and you gown-up. I'm (I'm switching from the "you" to "I" format now) put into the bed, and she brings in a cart with bentadine (sterile packs) and washes my legs, hip to toe (both) and wraps them in plastic and tapes them closed. She explains that they do this here, as well as a 2nd time in the operating room. I'm wheeled from there to the theater (see, you HAVE a surgery IN the theater) area where the anesthesiologist evaluates me (30 seconds for R500). Turns out he was a one-time Judoka, and was fond of leg sweeps. Hopefully for his Uke, he was also fond of off-balancing and keeping track of which way joints bend. People who pass are in the typical scrubs, and they're all quick to smile and say hello. I'm wheeled into theater where I scootch over to the operating table and the anesthesiologist sets up my IV and gives me something to "relax" me, then something to knock me out. This is the first time I've not been asked to count back from 100.

I wake up with the typical shivers, but the morphine kept me out for many hours. When I woke up, I was pleasaently surprised to find the dosage of the morphine (which I controled with a pump, as usual) is good, so I'm not fucked up or scared of my feet. A friend, who has been so helpful I can't even begin to thank her visited (Grethe) and I'm sure I made no sense whatever.

The next day I'm better, put onto regular pain meds (IV) and see the physiotherapist. Do this

everyday, that everyday, some of this, that and never that. Go up some stairs and I'll see you tomorrow. Same deal the next day along with a test on how well I navigate stairs (I passed). Much to the nurses agitation, I take a shower, repeatedly telling them this ain't my first rodeo, and that I'll call if I get light headed in the slightest (I was fine).

OomJan, my Judo sensei visited, and it was a needed emotional crutch (I didn't realize I needed it until I saw the concern on his face). It wasn't visiting hours, but he's such a charmer, he wormed his way past the fierce nursing staff. Later, Maret (another life-saving friend, from Judo, who brought me to/from the hospital) and Faf came to visit (the offending Judoka on which I will comment no further). Grethe also came again, wielding licorice (amen).

Got home Friday afternoon, to a new flat in the same building (G110). I'm officially handicapped, so I've been put into the "Paraplegic" room, which is a horrible name for a sweet flat. I have a full bed rather than that piddly twin, and it's higher off the ground, to boot. I have windows everywhere, and a shower in the corner of the bathroom as well as the regular tub! There are handrails all over the place, and there's even a second bedroom for my "caretaker" (who, incidentally, insists on cooking my vegetables in red meat fat whenever I am not vigilant).

While my caretaker is very nurturing, I find her protectiveness a little hard to take. She chimes in when I see the Dr., undermining my carefully worded questions about my proposed activity levels and leaves bits of broken glass on the floor for me to find with bare feet. She hordes the garlic as if it's coming out of her salary and I think she stole my credit cards. But, she is quite good at foot rubs, and she did give birth to me, so maybe I should keep her for a little while.

Today is day 10 from my surgery, and I am running ahead of schedule (I can bear full weight [briefly] and can bend the knee 90+ degrees). I'm not going to push things though, as there's still lots of swelling and soreness (with the tissues they mangled around the knee, not the knee itself). My calf is like an overstuffed sausage at this point. This is a standardized timeline for ACL recovery.

0 - 2 weeks

Partial weight bearing - Full Weight and Knee Flexion to 45 degrees.

2 - 6 weeks

If wound healed, swimming (no kicking), Gentle Stationary Cycling and knee flexion to 90 degrees.

6 Weeks

Graft at weakest so be cautious. Full Weight bering. Full active range of motion and most PT exercises.

3 Months

Muscle Conditioning, Cardio Fitness and

Propriception exercises (not to be confused with the entomology term 'proprioreception')

6 Months

Sport specific training

I see my new physiotherapist on Monday and will get some sort of routine/instructions. Hmm,

if she's an expert, maybe she can help me with other medical bodily issues, like my loose skin. Perhaps there's some use it has that I'm just not aware of. I could retrain my brain to use the flesh like a flying squirrel or something. Fold back when not in use, and when leaping from a rock to the ground 4 meters up, fan out to allow me to glide down with ease! Then again, why think so small? There's lots of people around with loose skin. Cirque Du Soleil could form a troupe of just people who've lost lots of weight and have a spectacular flying show unlike any other. I'll have to explore that idea some more. I'll keep you all posted.

Here are some cool pictures of a praying mantis that chose the wrong flat to come into the day before my surgery. I played with him for a while, and as I'm now an entomology student, I didn't hold him hostage, I put him in a killing jar and then pinned him systematically to a board, using no less 19 pins. I'm a terrible person.

Surgery in South Africa

Ok all, it's on. Insurance came through, and my $13,000US surgery has been approved. I even have some leftover coverage for physical therapy! No worries, MediClinic is a large hospital system here, sort of like Fairview is, in Minnesota. They're the upscale private hospital and are the ones with the great reputation around Stellenbosch. I go in tomorrow at noon, and they say I'll be there for two nights. Naturally, I'll take pictures and post them of my new wounds. Ah, finally, surgical scars that might pass for a shark attack!

I'm going to the Theater, and there's going to be blood.

April 20th, a very large, very strong and very new white belt tried to sweep my leg during Randori. For those non-Judokas, that means just "free-practice." This fellow is very nice, and until this night had refused to throw me at all, for fear of hurting me. Being that I've been slammed into the mat more times than I can recall, I told him over and over again to just be normal with me, and that he'd not hurt me. Ha. I should have added that this was only if he integrated tsukuri (off balancing me). He put his foot down against mine, so my left leg was blocked, then tried to shove me over his leg (to my left) with brute force. Problem is, my knee doesn't bend that way, and without the tsukuri, all that happened was my body above the knee went one way and the parts below the knee stayed stationary. I heard- as did he, I think, I loud POP-POP and we both froze. I knew something bad had happened, but thought since it only mildly hurt that it wasn't serious. This was something that could have happened easily to anyone- just to be clear. This guy is not un-skilled, and he was going for a gentle throw, and it was just one of those flukey things that could happen to anyone.

Later that night the mild pain and wobbly feeling turned into rockets of pain if the knee bent. In the morning I got a ride to the ER and was told it was likely a meniscus or other ligament tear, but that there was no bone in it so not to worry too much. I was to stay off it for a few days and go follow up with a Sports Dr. 8 days later when I could get a ride to said Sports Dr. (it's holidays left and right here, and I couldn't get a ride to go earlier as I was supposed to), she tortured me for a bit, then said she thought it was a more serious tear, with cartilage flipped under bone that would need theater (surgery) to repair. She sent me back to the hospital to meet with an orthopedic surgeon right then and there

Sigh. NOW, this Dr. did a very light exam and said immediately that his gut feeling was that it was an ACL (anterior cruciate ligament- one of the main ligaments on the knee) tear. I already knew that this was the worst-case scenario, as the other Dr's had casually and briefly mentioned this tendon.

A very expensive and immediate MRI (it's a "real" hospital, they have an MRI there) confirmed his gut feeling and I'm scheduled for a full ACL reconstructive surgery Wednesday (May 4th) at the Stellenbosch MediClinic. This is the private hospital network in South Africa, and the one everyone, and I mean everyone says is the place to go. So far I'm impressed with the care as my surgeon has emailed me personally, and in the ER, the Dr. himself came to get me after my series of X-rays. They've all been very kind, informative and attentive.

The kicker is this: there's something about the body's reaction to this injury that makes it a surgery they won't do after 14 days from the injury date. This all happened so fast, that I can't really remember the details right now, but if I don't have the surgery Wednesday, I can't have it for 6 weeks. AND cause it's "holiday season" in South Africa now, and my diagnosis was made late Friday, not one lick of information has been sent to my International Insurance company and the hospital will cancel the surgery if they don't get a letter of guarantee by the surgery. Today (Monday) is flippin' Banana day or something, so literally, the insurance company will have one day to make the approval. I'll be sweating bullets tomorrow (and being an utter pest to the surgeons office until I get confirmation that they've sent it), that's for sure.

The surgery itself seems to be pretty standardized. They don't have the same cadaver supply here that they do in the U.S., so I'll have hamstring grafts taken from my right leg. They drill through the femur to get to the tendon to make the repair, and though there's some open incisions, it's kept pretty minimal. From reading other people's ACL repair blogs, I expect to be on my feet with crutches within a few days, and to put full weight on the knee within 2 weeks, for sure. After that, the physical therapy is to begin (again, insurance allowing) and in 6 weeks I'll be able to ride a stationary bike (the "stationary" part was highly emphasized) and in 6 months (MONTHS) I'll be able to get back to Judo.

To say the least, this shredded ligament has derailed my "training" and I'm trying to see the positives. If anyone has any- besides "it could be worse," I'm all ears. I'm not sure yet how this will impact my studies, but I've been a good student so far, and I should be able to take exams, so I think it will all work out.

On a side note, the night of my diagnosis, a homeless cat that I've blogged about got herself knocked up (I guess she didn't take advantage of all the free condoms) and was crying outside in the cold. I found her and took her into my room (which is very much not allowed, but she's been living in people's flats the whole semester, anyway). I realized what was going on, and made a little bed for her and watched her abdomen cramps. During the night she painfully (she's very young herself) gave birth to 3 live (one dead) kittens. I'm sharing my bed now with this family until they're old enough to be sent out into the world (homes or a shelter). Elizabeth did find a home for the mama though, on a vineyard, so she's all set. I'm going to see how much it will be to fix her and see if the other people who have taken her in will go in with me to take care of her. Her personality is much improved since giving birth- she's very affectionate (though a rough mother, to say the least).

With the climbing that's what, 31k?

From all the hiking I've been doing since arrival, my New-New Balance shoes look like they're 5 years old. The new bike I got about a month ago is filthy with dust and scrapes. I love them both. The 3 part goal I set for myself regarding JH was completed today. I got up on time, pulled a back muscle reaching for the alarm (not kidding), had espresso and read Salem's Lot while I waited for the near overdose of South African Excedrin to kick in. When I could stand up, I surveyed my ankles (they've been swollen this week) and seeing they were ok, set out for JH Park Reserve with my insect net in it's holster.

An hour and 7k's later (above is a glimpse of the early parts of the bike ride up) I arrived at the gates and rested for a while, as the next leg of the journey was a 5k sand/rock jeep trail with dishumourous inclines. You can hear me gasping for air in this video, not long after starting the jeep trail (it starts off with a nasty little hill).

I did that part in an hour, too, then tied my bike up at a pole with info leading to the waterfall hikes. Here are some pictures of the 6.4km hike, progressing as they do on the hike. I know it's a lot of pictures, and some pretty nerdy, but it's the first time I've been able to do this hike on my own, and to be able to take my time.

This view to my left, while hiking is of the many dead proteas that one sees hiking all over the area. When fires come through, they burn, but retain their structure- often times re-sprouting new growth from the base. Sometimes though you just get a sea of dead protea. Here also is a little lizzard I caught with my multi-functional net. He was surprisingly accommodating. No, he didn't end up in a jar.

Here is where the landscape starts to shift from riparian to almost forest- with lots of overhang and boulders. You hike into a series of small waterfalls that now are only trickles with small pools, but in a few months it will be a pretty healthy river, I'm told. The video is when I've rock hopped up the river as far as you can go---horizontally. That's when I started to climb up the rocks.

Perspective is hard in these pictures but trust me, gravity and sharp edges were very much on my mind. I was being VERY careful, and was VERY thankful that I've gotten strong enough to hang onto tree branches and swing from rock to rock (for real). The last time I did this, I slid down a rock to land on a little platform. In these situations, the landings aren't the problem, it's the momentum. I hit the ground and of course kept going, my center of gravity beyond my feet and almost went over the side. That might have been the scariest moment of my life, but obviously I didn't die. On this trip, I tossed my bag down first and maneuvered a little differently to avoid a similar situation. The picture (the one with my knees) is right before my mini descent, as I didn't know if I'd make it or not. This way, I figured, there'd be a very appropriate final picture of me, seconds before my death. There were some cool galls up there that I sampled and will bust open later, too.

I reached the fabled top pool after, I think something like 20 minutes? I lost my net en route (don't worry, I collected it on the way back) so alas, though I saw damselflies (maybe antlions, actually, I didn't get a good look at the antenna), I didn't get any. Sorry for the awkward picture, but I had to race to that rock before the auto-timer took the picture.

There were lots of frogs again, and just as many tadpoles, but this time I took note more of the lichens:

After that little rest, pestering the wildlife, I carefully climbed down the rocks, thanking the trees for being as strong as they were. Back down the 6.4k trail, the 5k back to the gates followed by the 7k back to Concordia (my housing). All in all, it was about 7 hours and 20 minutes and a great day.

Yesterday a fire started on the mountain- not Stellenbosch Mountain, one of the other ones in the chain that I can't recall the name of (note that the listed blog dates are just the dates I started the blog, not the date I actually published it). It's a little more south and east. I have no idea if it was a planned burn or what, but the winds were really strong that day, so any spark in that dry environment would have blown a great distance. It burned into the night, and the next day it was still smoking when the sun went down.

Last week I went to my first Potjie. Per Wiki: In South Africa, potjiekos (pronounced /ˈpɔɪkiːkɒs/), literally translated "small pot food", is a stew prepared outdoors in a traditional round,cast iron, three-legged pot (the potjie) which is found in the homes and villages of people throughout southern Africa.^[1] The pot is heated efficiently using small amounts of wood, charcoal or if fuel is scarce, twisted grass or even dried animal dung.

Some friends from entomology pulled me into the fold and I was actually a part of the team (We were "Corein and the Foreigners"). As they have no faith in my potjie abilities, I was assigned the task of making the rice, which the potjie is ladled onto. The girl in the pink shirt is Gail, who has graciously offered to have me stay with her and her family at their farm in Namibia over break. The guy behind her is Henry, who has offered to go on a hike on the eastern coast through the jungles if I promise that I'll go (he's afraid I'm an American Flake). Notice all the bare feet...