The Valley Road
After my amazing day at the school I headed home to Gecko Creek. Because the bridge is still flooded out, I headed out of town on the old, mountain road. Just beyond the town there was a cut-off to the left with a road sign indicating it went into the Cederberg. I remembered that Ingrid had pointed out a road near Algeria, on the other side of the mountain pass from Gecko, and said that it took you to Clanwilliam. I wondered if that was the same road and whether I should take it to find out.
The weather forecast had promised rain for today and the thought occurred to me that deep cloud cover would make the mountain pass back to Gecko impassable. I scanned the horizon and indeed the blue sky was overcast to the south with the cloud cover descending on the top of the mountains. Still, it looked as if the rain was still a ways off and I decided to chance it, hoping I could turn back if the conditions changed.
The road began as many of the other mountain roads do here, rather nondescript. A scar scraped into the side of the mountain with rocks, sand and scrub bush strewn around. Then, as it descended into the valley I began to sense that I was in for a treat. There ahead lay a ribbon of sandy, red soil, snaking along through the base of the valley, safely nestled deep between majestic peaks on both sides. I was happy to see that the road was indeed low in the valley so I continued on, secure in the knowledge that if the weather closed in I would be able to turn around and head back being safely beneath the cloud cover.
Once again I passed beautiful, well organized citrus farms, charming guest cottages and campgrounds and remote mountain dwellings as I travelled along. It was a serene feeling. The road snaked along between the mountains and took me deep along a trench within the mountain range.
I began to scan up ahead hoping to see familiar landmarks that would indicate I was headed in the right direction to Algeria but none were to be seen. The weather was deteriorating slightly but still not to the degree that I was overly concerned. Running into trouble on these remote mountain passes would not be good but I soldiered on.
Just about the time that I was beginning to wonder if I was even on the right road I suddenly crested a hill and intersected the road that runs from Algeria to Gecko. Smug as I was, I must admit to a slight feeling of relief that I was no longer wandering around aimlessly in the heart of the Cederberg.
The weather was still holding and the scenic drive over the mountain pass was uneventful. I was convinced that the most challenging part of my journey was behind me and I would soon be enjoying a cup of Rooibos Tea with Ingrid. But once again, things are seldom that easy in South Africa!
I descended the mountain pass and smiled as I turned into the lane to Gecko. The bottom gate is directly beside the road and encloses the lower pasture. There, standing on the other side of the gate were four cows. The big cows were busy foraging around and not paying much attention but the calf! He was bound, bent and determined that he was coming over to see what was going on.
Without thinking too much about it, I hopped out of the car to go over and open the gate. I stepped inside, and realizing that I would have to navigate the gate without allowing the cows to escape, I began to shoo the cows away. They slowly moved off a little piece and I turned and began to walk back to the gate. I was almost at the gate when I realized that the little calf was heading back to the gate too and I would need to shoo him off again. Once again he scampered away only to follow me back to the gate yet again. By now this game was getting old and I was really looking forward to that cup of tea with Ingrid so I gave it a really concerted effort, running down the lane (in the dress I had worn to visit the school) madly waving my arms above my head and screaming like a banshee.
This time the calf took off toward the group of cows. His speedy retreat raised the interest of one of the other animals and it turned to look at me with a rather intent gaze. Along about that time I began to question the wisdom of my actions. I had assumed that these would be like North American cows; rather benign blobs, easily managed but there was something in the way that brown one was looking at me that gave me pause for thought.
I looked at the group a little more closely and realized my mistake. What I had assumed were a group of three cows and a calf turned out to be two cows, a calf … AND A BLOODY BIG BULL. You can imagine who was doing the running now. Safely on the opposite side of the fence again I sat in the safety of my car and contemplated the situation. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all but after a few minutes the group moved off, obviously having lost interest in the little game. I safely navigated the rest of the drive up the lane and I’m not sure when I have enjoyed a cup of tea more!
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Morag