The Tankwa Karoo via the Swartruggens hills
TRAVEL THROUGH THE SWARTRUGGENS HILLS TO THE ROCKY DESOLATION OF THE TANKWA KAROO IN A FIERY RED MACHINE? YES PLEASE LIFT OFF CHESS MANOEUVRES
Allied fighter pilots of World War I would have found their nemesis in Manfred von Richthofen, otherwise known as the “Red Baron”. His aircraft was a scarlet Fokker triplane, his signature move: to attack out of the sun as he swooped in for the kill. How else could he avoid being seen in a bright red triplane?
There were no victory marks on the side of the FX4 when I picked it up from the Ford agent, no Spandau machine guns mounted on the bonnet. But the colour elicited a feeling of menace: I wouldnʼt want this thing on my tail. Thankfully, Iʼd be behind the wheel, not in front of it.
Our destination was the western edge of the Swartruggens hills, the only exposed edge of the Witteberg Formation that lies beneath the Tankwa Karoo. The rocky heights are a complex chess game played by giants, towering stone figures waiting for the next move, and the best place to get in on this game is Kagga Kamma Nature Reserve.
The trip from Cape Town took us along the R46, a smooth ribbon of tar that unravels on Michellʼs Pass as it climbs to Ceres. Switching to the R103 we rode the curves up Gydo Pass to the Koue Bokkeveld, where an endless wall of sandstone – the Cederberg proper – forms the eastern grandstand to this beautiful track. To the west, the Swartruggens rises in a more subdued fashion. That is, until you enter this menagerie of rock.
Tar manners were impeccable for this slightly oversized bakkie. Power and torque aplenty meant no gradient was a hindrance to upward mobility – at 132kW it is far more powerful than the Baronʼs 82kW Fokker. The fiery red colour was a bonus. Those scanning their mirrors were clearly intimidated by the approaching threat. Even ʻNo Yellow Line Drivingʼ trucks found the yellow streak quickly, and we flew past, unchallenged.
The tar runway ended as we turned to the Swartruggens. On a steady climb along soft pack grit, dusty straights and tight turns, the suspension was firmer than expected, making me wish there was more of a load to plant it. But thatʼs bakkies for you. Regular buyers would fit a canopy and load it with two and a half children, a 60-litre fridge (there is a 12v socket in the loadbed) and everything to sustain them, including bicycles and canoes. All my wife and I needed for the weekend trip was a bag of clothes and camera gear galore, which fitted on the back seats (leather/red trim) with space for a wingman.
The camera gear was unpacked on the final approach to Kagga Kamma. Here, the chess game starts to take form. You weave through great monoliths cut through by wind and water, revealing toothy sandstone figurines. From the air, Von Richthofen would have been impressed by rocky strata marching in regimented lines. On the ground it appeared more haphazard, like discarded pawns and errant bishops. In the nature reserve further on, the ancient game takes on even greater proportions.
Kagga Kammaʼs lodge and chalets are nestled at the foot of a shapely escarpment. The spa is resplendent at the crown, with views between spires of the surrounding bergs. The outdoor dining area is
cocooned in stone where fire pits bring sandstone to life in a glowing dance. Some of the chalets are built into the rock. One – the Star Suite – is nestled against a giant boulder 3km away, secluded and discreet with its own natural rock pool.
In another sector of the reserve, we hiked amid an endless maze of towering stone figurines. Walking among them was a thrill, awakening an almost childlike mania for exploration. The rewards were hidden caves and grottos, portals to secret passages, smooth gullies and overhangs with rock paintings so clear itʼs as if their creators would return that evening, a dassie or bushbuck for dinner.
Wild campsites and challenging 4×4 trails are another allure of Kagga Kamma, and we put the FX4 on trial with nary a complaint, even on the steepest sections where small boulders tumbled underfoot as I climbed out to plan routes over tricky sections. Ironically it was on a flat section that a tyre found the sharp edge of a rock, and exhaled, not surprising on rubber better suited for tar. If rocky trails are your thing, change the stock treads for reinforced off-roaders. If aerial combat is your thing, get a Fokker triplane.
TANKWA ON FIRE
Tyre duly plugged, we followed the sunrise the next day, a glorious descent down into the Tankwa Karoo all dark and secretive below, the sky aflame. There was a short stop at Tankwa Padstal to see the cars that had crash landed there, a slow cruise along the gravelly R355 stopping to chat with the dusty folk who were walking the Tankwa Camino, then a rocky scramble to the foot of the hills where we alighted at Tierkloof Mountain Cottages. Oh my, that view, you can stare at it for days. We did.
Tierkloof has three beautifully styled cottages, far enough from one another that they offer real seclusion – think sunset baths in outdoor tubs and showers. We were lodged in the aptly named Serenity cottage, the pool and the porch of which became our seats for the show thatʼs been running even longer than The Phantom of the Opera – that great double bill called Sunset and Sunrise.
One night we pulled a mattress outside and slept on the porch. The roar of a lion pierced our slumber in the early hours, carried on the air from Inverdoon Game Reserve 7km away. We woke again to the sky on fire and the contrail of an airliner piercing the rising sun.
During the long intermissions, we embarked on wonderful hikes into the valleys and over the hills. Near the cottages you can reach a small overhang above a natural pool. The cave is crudely walled with natural rock, the remnant of an ancient herder whose livestock would have drank here. Further up the valley, you go further back in time. Jagged ochre walls lean in on you, an ever-narrowing procession of rock. Examine the walls and youʼll see the ripple marks of ancient rivers. Look even closer and small fossils are revealed, prehistoric plants, traces of life from a long dead sea.
Close inspection of ancient worlds deserves contemplation, best done on porches overlooking grand panoramas. Back we went to watch every mood a sky can go through, waning from pink to purple to inky black as Earth rolled over. Serenity indeed. We sat and listened to the soundless night, our reverie cut by a pulsating red light moving across the black sky and the beat of an engine, a small plane bound for who knows where. Fokker.