HOW TO DO SA’S MOST FAMOUS TRAIL
Next year SA’s oldest, and most popular, hiking trail turns 50. We sent a first-timer, and then got her to interview some folk who have all done it differently. Choose the way that suits you best
THE FIRST-TIMER
My team, a motley crew of moms and mates (pictured right), had all packed and unpacked, then repacked again about three times on a drizzly afternoon in Nature’s Valley. Nerves were high – both jitters and excitement. For all but one of us, the next morning would mark the start of our first Otter: 45 kays of quintessential coastline hiking along the shores of the Eastern and Western Cape. I’d been looking forward to it for months, having begged and bargained my way onto very fit friend Alistair Jackson’s booking. He’d made it a year in advance (to the day, so it included a weekend and public holiday) knowing just he and his mother wanted to hike it. He anticipated little problem filling up the other spots, and he was right. Just 12 people can hike each daily section of the trail and the only time you’re likely to bump into others is on the first day when day-trippers can walk to the beautiful ocean-side waterfall. The following morning we gather for a team photo next to a signpost that marks the beginning of the trail above the Tsitsikamma forest – all smiles, clean clothes and big bags. Next to it is the Otter meeting room. Inside, I weigh my backpack on a scale that looks like a meat hook hanging from one of the beams. The needle locks position at 20 kilograms. That’s flippen heavy for a woman my size. Experts recommend carrying no more than a quarter of your weight, making mine six kilos too heavy. Admittedly, I had also packed a papsak of red wine, camera gear to shoot this story and a few fancy foods (sun-dried tomato pesto sachets and biltong spread – luxuries by hiking standards). I properly regret that extra weight on the second day when the uphills and downhills are equally immense. At times, log stairs ascend relentlessly, step after step after step. Apparently there are 7 000 of them, and those are just the ones going up. The day is tough for everyone, but at the end of it we’re having sundowners around a warm fire beside two beach cottages at the Geelhoutbos River mouth, under a sky dripping with the kind of colours you’d find in a cocktail. Our hearts are full
and we feel euphoric. Two oystercatchers even join us. That night I eat more, not because of an appetite but to free up packed weight, and I make sure to put a good dent in that papsak. It gets easier in the days that follow: my pack lightens, my legs find their strength and special sights keep spirits up. The Bloukrans River crossing is the only other big concern. Steeped in myth and fear, it’s the legend of the Otter Trail. Ultimately, it’s easy for us. An early start means we arrive at low tide, stuff our packs into giant survival bags and carry them awkwardly across the rocky river. The hardest part, actually, is climbing the boulders and crags on the other side. All too quickly, the fifth and last day of the trail meanders to an end on the beautiful Blue Flag beach at Nature’s Valley. In five days we’d spotted a lone otter slinking into the ocean from the shores of the rooibos-coloured Elandsbos River, walked through amazing fynbos fields with bright blooms I wish I knew the names of, and delved into damp forests, carefully navigating slippery roots. Although my muscles ached, the beauty and variety of the trail kept us eager to continue exploring this pristine, wild coastline, where a formidable ocean meets the land.
‘It gets easier... my pack lightens, my legs find their strength’