Nova Scotia And The Drakensberg
by D. A. Smithson
An engineer was said to be an expert when he was fifty miles from home, but now the distance has to be greater perhaps because the engineers are smaller. My boss telephoned me in Sweden to ask me to start work in Nova Scotia as soon as possible. The job could last from one to five years and lets say four weeks to sort out your personal problems and conclude the Swedish contract. I made it to Canada in five weeks complete with wife, children and dog.
The normal activities of living, like work and finding houses and furniture require more time when overseas. Also a sense of uncertainty and a lack of security make families stick more closely together so that even self-centred and domineering males, like all Yorkshire Ramblers, cannot easily leave their families.
For the first six months I did nothing more than take a few walks in the forest and take frequent camping trips with my family. This included the whole summer period with a week’s camping in the White Mountains in U.S.A. as the nearest I got to climbing. I do, however, have a certificate as “A Master of the Mountain” for driving up Mount Washington.
It was some time after this that I conceived the idea of spending a weekend canoeing, Red Indian style. As a result one Saturday in September, 1974 we set off at 06.00 hours: two cars, four people, two canoes and enough camping gear to stay out until Sunday night.
We motored about 150 miles to Kejimkujik National Park which is all lakes, rivers, trees and hiking trails. The autumn in Canada is quite unbelievable. The colours as seen in some Walt Disney films are really true. There are dark green evergreens and then maple leaves from pale gold to brilliant crimson. The whole range of colours is displayed with each tree being predominantly one colour. Even hundreds of miles of motoring does not dull the wonder at the colours and sitting quietly away from the bustling world one is awed.
We off-loaded the canoes, sleeping bags, food etc., near Big Dam Lake and took one car to Jacques Landing where we hoped to finish on Sunday evening. I stayed to guard our equipment and watched two other people start the “carry” through the forest to the edge of the lake. This they did in two stages. First the canoe and then their rucsacs, paddles etc. It took them about ten minutes for the return journey. When I reported this to my companions we agreed to carry the canoes complete with gear for this first short portage. This was our first mistake. The trail was narrow and winding and the dimensions of the canoes made them very difficult to handle in the upright position. It reminded me of the struggles to carry a rolled bed mattress only the canoe was heavier and hard.
After taking photographs we launched ourselves onto the lake. First we had an experimental paddle up and down and back. Then we loaded our gear in and set off to explore the wilderness. Down Great Dam Lake we went, through the narrows and on to a Park Warden’s cabin where we had lunch. As we travelled we managed to identify the camp sites in the trees, and find the coloured marker identifying the start of our portage past the rocky outlet of the lake. The cabin was neat and well maintained but unoccupied. Looking through the windows showed it to be a two roomed all wooden cabin with a stove and two beds.
We then crossed the lake to the start of our first real portage of about J mile. Now we confirmed our view that there is no painless way to carry a canoe even when empty. The two fishermen relaxed by trying to catch breakfast off some rocks. They caught no fish but one fell in, so three of us thought the pause worthwhile. The journey continued down a slow moving river through low-lying marshy ground with a backcloth of trees of every imaginable colour. The silence could be felt. We managed to pole and paddle the canoes past the next portage and camped where the river joined the next lake.
Camping and cooking is only permitted on certain sites where fireplaces, rough tables with benches and cut firewood are provided. These facilities are necessary to avoid serious forest fires and to prevent people chopping down all the trees near the fireplaces. We lit a fire, made coffee and baked potatoes and onions. As it grew darker we drank more coffee, passed the rum bottle and talked and talked and talked. We had had a great day full of new experiences which could be related to past experiences.
We slept under the trees with a ground sheet pretending that no one had told us that bears were on the move. We woke to a dull drizzly day which disappointed us after the sunshine of the previous day. After breakfast we set out across Frozen Ocean Lake which was about a mile and a half against a stiff breeze. The next portage was essential for us to gain entry to the river but a more experienced pair of canoeists demonstrated how to paddle through the white water. We paused to fish and then continued paddling along the river in the rain. Fortunately the trees protected us from the wind. At the next portage we floated the canoes with equipment whilst one person walked and the other waded. This was followed by more river and a small lake before the longest portage called Coade’s portage.
We cooked lunch in the fireplace provided before starting the portage. Coade’s portage is about half a mile long over a ridge and at the top of the ridge there is a sort of goal post to support one end of the inverted canoe so that the carriers can rest without lowering the canoe to the ground. This is a natural way to take the weight of a canoe being carried by a single person. We found the carrying of a canoe 17 feet long hard work even for two of us. The problem is not so much the weight as the awkward shape and we always ended up with sore shoulders and stiff necks even with short carries. The usual problem is that if the weight is supported in relative comfort, then the neck had to be strained to see the way through the trees. We used a 17 foot canoe because we had no experience of canoeing and a big canoe is more stable but heavier. I would consider a 15 foot canoe big enough for all normal expeditions up to a week.,
Following the river down to the largest lake, Kejimkujik Lake, was uninteresting but this may have been because the weather was overcast with increasing wind. This wind began to worry us because even on the river it was making waves about six inches high and our freeboard was about nine inches. On the large expanse of the lake the waves would be larger. We therefore chose to carry the canoes over a peninsula instead of paddling round the point. This was safer but more painful.
Our route across the lake was almost at right angles to the wind but to avoid being swamped we had to keep the canoe in line with the wind. Added to this we had to paddle strongly when exposed to the wind to avoid being blown ashore. We could all swim, and we all had life jackets so the chances of drowning were small but it was cold and the overland route is made very arduous by dense forest and marsh. By carrying across the base of Indian Point we avoided being exposed to the wind and waves for the first mile. The waves were about eighteen inches high so we spent about two hours paddling hard in a South Westerly direction so that we drifted in an E.S.E. direction which was the route we wished to follow. We abandoned our attempt to round the next point to Jacques Landing, turned our backs to the wind and ran the canoes onto a beach where there is a roadway about a mile from the car.
After that we had only to retrieve the cars, load our equipment and drive back to Halifax. We had had a wonderful adventure in magnificent scenery with the outcome reasonably in doubt. Luckily the party was a happy one of people determined to get the most fun possible. I did not go canoeing again for the season was over and winter too close.
But winter provided a different venue and when my family returned to U.K. just after Christmas they gave my Swedish ski and boots to a friend returning to Nova Scotia. I did not feel that I should overburden my friend but I regretted not having my duvet, breeches and gaiters. However, a nylon boiler suit with cuffs added made a very effective overall. Later I managed a visit to U.K. and equipped myself with gaiters, breeches and spare mitts.
I found that the Canadian Youth Hostel Association organised many outdoor pursuits including the provincial ski racing and the marathon. The ski racing for Nova Scotia is centred on the C.Y.H.A. hostel at Wentworth, about 100 miles from Halifax. Skis and boots were available for hire at the hostel and at an associated shop in Halifax. This shop also hired out canoes, sleeping bags, rucsacs etc. At the Wentworth hostel there is a large area of forest with ski trails and it is closed to the skidoer. Because of the general freedom of access in Nova Scotian forests skiers have to share the trails with the skidoers and the trails are made difficult for the skier. The skidoer is a creature in human form who travels forest trails and lakes on petrol driven, noisy, smelly machines with two short ski at the front and a friction belt drive at the back. Once a creature of this type has passed, the trail is spoiled for the skier until more snow has fallen.
My first day of ski-ing was close to a disaster. I hired ski, poles and boots. I borrowed a frame rucksack. And finally chose a narrow trail winding through the trees. The boots, chosen large to avoid cold feet were too large, and the hook release on the rucksack strap had a habit of becoming unhooked with fatal effect on my normally delicate balance. I was ski-ing in slacks over pyjamas and a pullover over a pullover and had not yet realised how cold and deep the snow of Canada can be. I finished the trail exhausted, wet and bruised having taken most of the day over a “good half day tour.”
For the next three months I skied two days each weekend and also a single half day, mid week when we were sent home early in case the roads were impassable by tea time. I don’t remember a great deal of bad weather but occasionally the cold was so intense that ski-ing in a slight wind was painful. In March I got soaked to the skin when out on the Saturday but a fall in temperature produced good ski-ing conditions on the Sunday.
I had many good times with good company. We skied at Kejimkujik National Park and on the Sunday I followed our canoeing route to the warden’s cabin and returned via a hiking trail. We visited Prince Edward Island which is noted for its beaches in the summer and as the inspiration for “Green Gables.” The weather on this occasion was perfect and I was introduced to the Brookvale Ski Resort which truly catered for cross country ski-ing as well as downhill. Almost every second weekend was spent at Wentworth. Not only on the C.Y.H.A. trails but also on the other side of the Wentworth valley near the downhill slope where we prepared a 25 mile marathon trail.
The preparation of the Nova Scotian Marathon Trail was an interesting experience. The trail used in previous years had been very dependent on an old logging road which unfortunately has been put back into use and is ploughed in the winter, which makes it undesirable for ski-ing. The local experts decided that a route should exist from Wentworth to Debert using some trails, some lakes, open lanes formed by streams and some bushwacking. I don’t know the origin of the word bushwacking but the skiers used it to mean travelling through the forest which involves cutting branches and bushes to form a clear trail. It was interesting to see these experts find a route through a forest where visibility is 10 to 20 yards. Where I was totally dependent on a compass the experts used aerial photographs and moved confidently from lake to stream using changes in types of trees as guidance. The confidence arose partially from the ability to follow ones own trail back to the beginning but I never heard of this happening.
My first experience of helping with the new trail was very much of a support role. We took two cars to Debert and followed mapped trails for about six miles into the forest. This made a set of tracks to guide a party of experts over the last part of the route and also provided us with a great day’s skiing. The experts started from two points each of which could be escape routes to the main road from the completed marathon route. One party finished ,at the end where we were waiting and the second party started nearer the beginning and finished where the first party started. Both the expert parties did about 15 miles of route marking with tape and cutting branches where necessary to make a suitable trail. Both parties had a hard day and did not feel that the best route had been found and marked. Another day a party failed to find a suitable route for the first part of the route and so for the 1975 marathon the length was reduced to about 20 miles.
The marathon was to take place on a Sunday so on the preceding Saturday I joined a party making guidance tracks, tying additional marker tapes and re-routing where improvements could be made. We left Wentworth at about eleven o’clock and made good progress on the early part of the route. One major re-routing was a total failure and involved us in about two hours of ski-ing. In the end we finished ski-ing in the dark and reached the waiting car at seven o’clock in the evening. After that the ski-ing of the marathon was easy even though I joined the early morning party which consisted of the organisers of the marathon. Over a hundred people completed the route covering a wide range of ages and skill. One of the most notable was an English girl who had just learned to ski. She fell in a stream after about five miles but finished the whole route with frozen clothing. The real heroes were the party near the half-way escape route. They made soup all day and then finished the route with the last party of the organisers complete with stoves and pans.
A week or two later on a good day with blue skies and low temperatures a party of us skied from Wentworth and found a route for the first few miles so that we now had a completed marked route from Wentworth to Debert. It was a very long day and late in the season when the roads were clear of snow. However, in the forest using an inverted ski pole we could not probe the full depth of the snow. On days like this we could never get off our ski in comfort so normally we even ate lunch standing on ski. Very early on I learnt to re-wax one ski whilst standing on the other to avoid floundering about in deep snow. We used the first escape route down to the road but then had a long boring time ski-ing alongside the road on poor snow.
My last weekend in Nova Scotia was Easter weekend and I went ski-ing on Cape Breton Island with a party of friends. We stayed at a farm and though the ski-ing was not exceptional the location was. To start off with the farmer had not ploughed his road because he did not own a car so we left the cars about a mile from the farm and skied in. On leaving the farmer, John Gardner, loaded our luggage onto a sledge and harnessed the horses.
John and his family had emigrated from the United States where both he and his wife had been teachers living on a smallholding. They bought this farm because it was the best they could afford which would enable them to revert to a simpler but harder way of living. They were very nearly self-sufficient on the farm but their eldest two boys had left to start their own lives as a farrier and a coach builder which reduced the labour force available to do the farming. One of the two remaining children, both girls, is shortly to enter a veterinary college and then I think John will have to modify his way of farming.
The food was marvellous. A home fed, home killed, home cured ham of enormous size provided the basic meat but to this was added a great variety of sauces and preserves. Not to be forgotten was home made bread, doughnuts and herb tea. Also evenings of talk about literature and contrasting different ways of living. We also enjoyed an evening of American country dancing in the kitchen to gramophone records and John’s instructions. Imagine twelve people trying to dance in an English suburban kitchen.
I then went home to my family in England for four weeks. A period spent enjoying the love and comfort of home and preparing to leave for South Africa. The intended programme was for me to leave my family at home for three months during the initial stages of a contract based in South Africa but involving a visit to Canada.
So I moved from the end of the winter in Canada to the beginning of winter in South Africa. From wet cold with snow and sleet to absolutely dry cold at 5,000 ft. with almost continuous blue sky and sunshine. There is also a very great change in social attitudes in these two affluent countries.
On arrival I made contact with a member of the F.R.C.C. Dave Hughes, with whom I had exchanged letters whilst in Canada. This was a very good move and led to some great evenings of drinking and talking. However, the weekend after we met Dave nearly killed himself falling down a gully in the dark which was most inconsiderate of him. His recovery coincided with my departure to Canada for a few weeks and my return coincided with an onset of arthritis in one of his legs: a rather painful way of avoiding climbing with me but he entertained me royally and gave me a lot of good advice.
I spent most of my mountaineering weekends in the Drak-ensbergs at recognised holiday centres but there is a lot of rock climbing in the Magaliesbergs which are much nearer to Johannesburg. The Mountain Club of South Africa does not publish climbing guides and make them generally available. Details of climbs are published in its journals but the problem is to locate the crags described. There is a firm and active objection by landowners to hordes of trespassers so the Mountain Club uses only word of mouth and meets to communicate the location of climbing. In some cases the Mountain Club has paid large sums of money for the right of access and the access is limited to card carrying members.
The net result is that an introduction to the Mountain Club is essential to readily discover the true extent of climbing in South Africa. For the casual visitor the recognised holiday centres in the Drakensbergs are probably the most suitable in Northern South Africa.
Some years ago I motored to Cape Town for a few days with my family and can still recall some magnificent mountain scenery. Table Mountain is a very special and readily accessible mountain but there are plenty more within a hundred miles of Cape Town.
Most of my weekends in the mountains involved encouraging a business associate to go to places to which his spirit wished him to go but which made his flesh cringe. There is a noticeable effect on a man used to walking on rolling hills and moors when he becomes involved with steep mountains up to 11,000 ft. We did not do more than scrambling but had some wonderful days out starting at about 5,000 ft. and occasionally crossing a summit.
The Royal Natal National Park and the Cathedral Peak area were the only two areas we visited but they abound with real mountains with a different character from any European mountains. The general colours were pale. A pale blue sky, pale rust coloured dusty earth, light brown rock and faded green grass. However, some of the wild flowers are brightly coloured and where the earth is wet it is a rich brown colour and the grass is green; picking wild flowers is illegal. Occasionally we saw herds of deer and groups (packs I think) of baboons which makes the mountains definitely African in character. On one occasion we watched a wildebeeste, from a safe distance, jumping and bucking on the open veld. These animals have been re-introduced into the Royal Natal National Park quite recently. Then there are dassies (rock hydrax) which look to me like fat tail-less rodents as they play among the rocks.
Almost the whole of this mountain region has an exposed rock.band at about 7,000 ft. which is only about 100 ft. high but is virtually unclimbable without artificial aids and this is probably the reason for a quite extensive system of well marked paths. Once when wishing to descend from a ridge we followed a stream leading towards a distant valley with a wide path along it. Unfortunately the path was a tourist route to view the spectacular waterfall formed by our stream falling free for about a hundred feet. Our route had to be at right angles to the stream, over a saddle and down a chain ladder to reach the path down to the hotel. The interesting climbing is in the top 1,000 ft. or so of the peaks and is quite extensive.
In general the hotels are cheap but badly heated. They have large airy, rather old fashioned looking rooms very suitable for the hot periods of the year but almost impossible to heat. Ladies sometimes keep their overcoats on for dinner and the compulsory tie and jacket of the men can cover a multitude of vests. However, they only cost about R.9 a day (£5.30) including evening meal and packed lunch.
Proper maps are not readily available and should be purchased in somewhere like Johannesburg. The Royal Natal National Park have a booklet with a map showing the paths and a two inch to the mile map has been privately produced of the Cathedral Peak area. The only shop selling the map does not open until mid morning. The best guide to the mountains that I found were the sketches in a book published under the auspices of the Mountain Club of South Africa entitled “The Drakensbergoof Natal” Price R.10.
I liked the Cathedral Peak area best but one must accept that there is no choice in accommodation. There is one camp site, one hutted camp and one hotel. I did not visit the camp site and the hutted camp was fully booked when I enquired. A hutted camp consists of a number of rondavels (round thatched huts) with centralised open air cooking facilities. Guests bring their own food and have it cooked by black servants or cook it themselves if at all complicated. The cooking facilities normally consist of a roofed area with a large wood fired stove which provided four hot plate areas and hot water on tap. The hotel consists of a central dining and drinking building based on the original farm house and a series of little cottages providing bedrooms and bathrooms. Within the hotel grounds are also a swimming pool, tennis courts, bowling greens, childrens play areas and stables. Most of the guests spend the majority of their time inside the grounds or within two miles of the hotel.
The hotel is at 4,820 ft. and the surrounding peaks at about 10,000 ft. At about 6,500 ft. there is a cleverly routed and clearly marked traverse path which can provide two good days of walking. We discovered an extension of this path which was not marked on the map and provided a good route down. We had spent all day scrambling up a stream bed and fighting our way through thorn bushes to try to reach a pass. If we had known of the path we would have reached it.
The following day we became associated with two strong young men intent on climbing Cathedral Peak. The hotel had lent them an old frame rucksack containing food and drink for all of us on the assumption that we would wish to travel together. They waited for us once or twice and finally left our sandwiches and mugs of water for us. After eating I continued after them and finally passed them as they were abandoning the rucksack a few hundred feet below the summit. They offered me a drink and I discovered that in addition, to four enamel mugs they had carried a gallon of water, two pints of milk and a two pint flask of coffee. I was very impressed.
Other than mountains South Africa has the wild game reserves, outstanding among them the Kruger National Park. Then there is the Blyde Canyon, the Ostrich farm, the Trans-kai, Swaziland market, the Indian Market at Durban and the mine dancers near Johannesburg on Sundays. Many more unfamiliar sights than North America has to offer. They have even got television now but sets are R. 1,000 each.