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High Flying in Oribi Gorge “Hey! Are you okay?” A tiny figure waves from the rim. “Great!” I yell back. Great, considering the fact that I am dangling from the end of a giant elastic cord and relying on what seems like a flimsy harness for my safety. If my heart would slow down I could actually take pride in the fact that I have thrown myself off a cliff—550 feet high—and not wet my pants. What’s most astonishing is that I’d never intended to find myself dangling from a cord like this.
So far, during my time in South Africa, I’d seen rolling savannah, tropical forest, arid desert and remote coastline. But I’d never seen an inland gorge. I suddenly became captivated by the notion of visiting the gorge, which boasted 200 species of birds and ample safe hiking to boot. So I pointed my SUV down the tarred winding road leading to the gorge. As the sun began slipping low in the sky, I found myself heading to the Oribi Gorge Hotel, described as an old plantation style home with superb views of the gorge. It seemed a good choice for an overnight stop. Of course what you envision in your mind’s eye is never what eventually manifests. Unfortunately in place of a stately home stood an empty shell of blackened timber and scorched rock walls. It turns out the old place burned to the ground forcing the owners to rebuild. I can’t help a mild flash of disappointment but it’s easily dispelled by the image of the newly built hotel and outdoor cafe. Accommodation is now offered in a long two story building a short walk from the restaurant, bar, and conference centre. There is a strong Flintstones-inspired decorating style at the hotel: from the cave like interior of the reception to the rock walled foundation of the hotel. I wonder, with some trepidation, if this theme will carry over to my room. I needn’t have worried. The rooms are bright and generous with wood beamed ceilings, pine floors and cool whitewashed walls. Fuchsia bougainvillea blooms strewn across my pink bedspread are a nice touch and a huge bay window offers views across a parched lawn to the swimming pool. I realize I’ve almost forgotten what a bathtub looks like when I encounter a large corner tub in my tiled bathroom. The tap water here comes with a warning: its high mineral content renders it brackish and unfit to drink. Great for soaking though, and who needs water when the bar is a short stroll away? Like a good traveller I decide first to resist the lure of a cold beer and seek out the promised views of Oribi Gorge and its nature reserve. Access to the view site is free for hotel guests and since I can’t see anything from the driveway and the sun is threatening to set, I pile back into my truck and bounce down the pitted dirt trail in the slanting rays of an evening sun. Small signs guide me to the site where I wait for my truck’s dust cloud to dissipate and reveal the splendour before me. Before me lays a rent in the earth. Sheer sandstone walls seem to ooze in the fading daylight, the mottled surface casting shadows on layers of lime and granite. An odd, brave little tree defies nature and clings to the sheer walls, its tiny roots finding purchase in the porous stone. Below the edge, hundreds of metres from where I am standing, a forest has taken hold. Lush treetops shroud the Umzimkulwana River from my view. The bottom of the canyon is miniscule from here, a tiny patchwork of greens and greys bathed in the light of a fading African sunset. I imagine I can see the odd glint of water as it rushes over tumbled boulders, ever onwards toward the Indian Ocean. It’s hard to believe this river, seemingly insignificant in the distance, carved this mighty gorge through millions of years of relentless flow. In the distance the walls widen and become verdant with forest, a safe habitat for a variety of buck, birds and the rarely seen, spotted leopard. The light is longer now and I know it’s time to return before I am stranded in the dark. There will be a full day tomorrow to find the Devil’s Pulpit, drink in the view and explore some of the trails. I settle on heading back to the hotel in search of sustenance and sweet dreams; little do I know what my search will reap. “So, are you gonna jump?” I am comfortably ensconced at a large stone picnic table at the outdoor café. My plate steams with fragrant lamb stew and there’s a cold Windhoek Lager in my hand. I look up to see a slightly weathered looking man wearing army pants and a slightly wild-eyed grin. “Jump?” I say, perplexed. Jump what, I wonder. I greet the question with a bewildered expression. Another grin flashes in the evening light. “We’ve got the highest bridge swing in the world here, straight into the gorge. Not much beats that for kicks.” No kidding. It turns out I’ve met the crew of Wild 5, an adventure company based at the hotel. They offer a variety of adventure based activities in and around Oribi Gorge, including the world’s highest commercial swing-jump and abseil, as well as cable sliding, hiking and white water rafting. I’m afraid of heights, but the crew’s unabashed enthusiasm convinces me to sign up for a jump the following morning. The next day, after a good night’s sleep and a giant breakfast at the hotel, I find myself filling out waivers, eyeing the jump site and wondering if I should have eaten so much. The jump takes place next to Lehrs Falls, which, thanks to the dry season, is a mere trickle. During the winter months the falls can turn into a rushing torrent that plunges over the side to crash violently against house sized boulders in the basin. It’s still early morning and the small buses that normally ferry jumpers from Durban haven’t arrived yet. For the moment there are only two of us nervously eyeing the crew as they organize harnesses to the thumping beat of a cranked stereo system. I turn my eye to size up the site and I realize, with renewed terror, that getting to the jump point will require climbing down a metal latter to a ledge that lies below where I am standing. I smile and silently try to calm my thudding heart, which has begun beating in sync with the blaring base in the background. The laid back Wild 5 crew smiles knowingly at my overblown attempt to act blasé. It turns out the laid back attitude is a charade of sorts. Safety, I discover, is of paramount importance to the first-aid trained crew of Wild 5 and it’s treated seriously. Every morning the man who rigs the jump takes the first plunge to test the equipment, a practice that ensures hyper-vigilance. I am being strapped into a full body harness when I am given the run down by the crew member in charge of my jump. He will strap me into my harness, rig me to a safety rope, take me down the ladder to the site, and ensure that I have a safe journey, 240 feet straight into the gorge. “You’re on a safety strap until the final moments: it’s impossible to go over the side until I undo the strap,” he says as I begin to pick my way down the metal latter securely bolted into the rock. I notice as I step onto the ledge that he too is strapped to a safety rope. “I’ll hook up the bungee cord and then you’ll creep to the edge towards those little blue feet.” He points and I stare at two incongruous blue feet painted on the edge of the drop-off; beyond the feet there is only air and a view that takes my breath away. “When you’re close I’ll undo the safety cord but I’ll still hold onto the back of your harness until you’re at the edge otherwise the weight of the cord will feel like it’s going to pull you over the edge. We’ll count down and when I say go—jump!” What am I doing? This thought occurs to me as I lean back against the tremendous weight of the bungee cord and inch my way towards the edge. Some part of my cortex is obviously still functioning although from the hammering of my heart I would say that the ancient reptilian section of my brain is fast taking over. It’s a war between reason and survival. “How long is the drop?” I squeak, making a strained attempt at idle banter. I wonder if my heart will actually sustain itself through this punishment and I’m silently thankful I declined a second cup of coffee at breakfast. We continue to creep and slowly the forest is revealed, but still no bottom. “You’ll freefall for a few seconds before you begin to swing, that’s when you speed up.” Great, I think, that’s just what I need. I notice my feet are sweating so badly they’re sliding forward, right out of my sandals. I have a sudden image of my body hurtling over the side while my sandals stay behind, firmly planted on painted blue feet. I repress a hysterical giggle and grip the bungee cord strapped to my front as though it might suddenly become detached. This cord is so heavy…I really am going to get dragged over the edge…wait I’ve changed my mind… did I mention I’m afraid of heights…where the heck is the bottom!? “Three, two,one…go!” It’s not like I have a choice, worn sport sandals have reached the point of no return; they line up with portentous blue feet. The weight of the cord seems to pull me over the side and into the abyss. I’m falling, but strangely, in the first second, I find myself staring only at the thick grey bungee cord; my life line. Ridiculous thoughts seem to collide in my head at a blistering pace. What if I get tangled? What if something snaps? I think I better let go of this thing… Then, reason is lost as my body and brain flood with adrenalin. For a few seconds it’s pure survival. Just as I am convinced I am about to become a statistic I roll onto my back and shoot out into the gorge, accelerating into the “swing". I am alive. My chest hurts. Is that normal? Who screamed? Wow, it’s pretty down here. This is kind of nice. Can I go again? MORE INFORMATION Oribi Gorge Hotel They also offer rafting, worlds highest commercial abseil, white water rafting (in season), hiking, horseback riding, wild slide and slow winch across the gorge. Directions to the Reserve
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JustSayGO Travel Show
My scream is still echoing in the stillness
of the canyon. The wind whistles past my ears and an eerie calm descends.
For the first time I notice how beautiful my surroundings are; how
the light plays across dimpled sandstone walls, how swallows dip and
weave in the warm thermals that swirl in the canyon basin. Then a shout
breaks the calm.
On Friday afternoon I was in desperate need for
a stopover during what would be a lengthy drive from the Transkaii
to the city of Durban on South Africa’s south coast. A two week holiday had inspired a mercenary style road trip; too much to see in too little time. Unfamiliar with the area’s possible charms, I decided to flip through my trip bible: one of a couple dog-eared travel guides that reside in the bottom of my backpack. That’s
when I read about a stunning nature reserve two-and-a-half hours
from Durban called Oribi Gorge.
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