Bekker Trails Magaliesburg: Our Adventures, Misadventures, and the Elusive Gate

So, Spring had sprung!

My trusty sidekick for the day, Pepper, had asked earlier in the week to join me on a hike. Now, considering that Pepper and I can barely navigate our way out of a paper bag...(not so trusty then??), I needed to be strategic about this. 

I aimed for somewhere we couldn't possibly get lost—if indeed such a mythical place even existed. 

A hike popped up on my radar that seemed foolproof, but was a bit far.....but why the hell not, I had thought.

So off we went to the Bekker Trails in Magaliesburg.

Miraculously, we managed an early start, arriving around 7:30. I know.....shocking for Pepper. He’s not exactly the early bird type, but hey, perhaps the "spring" in the air was in his step too. 

Of course, getting lost was inevitable.....on the way there......with a GPS.... But, for once, we didn't stray too far from the path.

Upon arrival, we stumbled upon a quaint little establishment. The vibe? Extremely chill. The trail manager looked like he was settling in for a day of lounging outside the shop, surrounded by a posse of dogs, just waiting to chat with every person who wandered in. 

He gave us the full rundown of the hike, and Pepper and I just stood there nodding like we had a clue. As soon as he was out of earshot, we turned to each other and knew neither heard a word he said.  

It’s our secret superpower—being masters of looking attentive while our minds are off wandering somewhere else entirely.

Somehow, we made it out onto the trail. I was secretly impressed—well, with myself at least. Pepper is blissfully ignorant of just how abysmally bad we are at both following and listening to directions. 

For a good chunk of the hike, we managed to stick to the path without too much trouble. Only one part had us properly stumped, but I’ll get to that disaster later.

The hike started off stunning—like "could be on a postcard" stunning. We descended into a valley, surrounded by towering trees that felt like the entrance to some sort of magical Forest of Dreams.

The weather had worn away parts of the trail, creating these eerie, intricate walls of roots. Absolutely spectacular. 

The path meandered alongside a river, sometimes flowing, sometimes more still, but as always water ALWAYS adds an extra layer of charm to the experience for me. 

There were a few gentle inclines and declines, nothing too strenuous. There was a serious one at the end which we were forewarned about.

Now, allow me to explain the dynamic between my two spawns—Salt and Pepper. Salt is the calm, level-headed one (except when he’s not). He’s my rock, always offering a hand at just the right time, figuring out who should go first depending on the terrain, all while keeping a watchful eye on his dear old mom.

And then there’s Pepper—feisty, anxious and intense.

There were a few spots on the trail with loose gravel where sliding on your butt was a distinct possibility. If you had hiking poles, no big deal. If not, well, just be careful. Pepper, lacking hiking experience, got all angst about these sections. 

The first tricky section we reached, Pepper casually said, "You go first." I, of course, naively thought he was being chivalrous, looking out for his mom (bless).

But nope, he shamelessly followed up with, "Because I don’t want you falling..." and just to clarify, continued, "on me"—you know, in case I misinterpreted his cold-heartedness! Classic Pepper.

We continued our hike, thoroughly enjoying ourselves, despite Pepper’s endless complaints about the "poo" everywhere. Apparently, the wildlife around here hasn’t been properly toilet trained—go figure. 

We hadn’t seen any animals yet, but I took the opportunity to ask Pepper if he’d ever be up for a game walk. “Oh, absolutely,” he said, confidently. 

“You say that,” I countered, “but if there was an elephant standing 20 meters away, wouldn’t you add to the poo on the trail?” 

“Not at all,” he insisted. 

Almost on cue, a couple of horses appeared ahead. Pepper instantly tensed up, eyeing them like they were wild creatures instead of glorified pets. "Are we sure it’s safe to walk past them?" he asked, voice full of genuine concern.

Horses, people. The guy was more worried about them than a hypothetical elephant. You can't make this stuff up!

Moments later, we spotted some cows.

Then came the real challenge: a fence separating us from the cows and the path ahead.

We looked for a gate, searched some more, and eventually decided to backtrack.

Realizing the only logical route was back to the fence, we reluctantly decided to “phone a friend.”

What did our friend say? Apparently, there was a “gate” secured with barbed wire that we needed to lift a latch and pass through.....yep, the one dead ahead of us when I video called him.

Now, Pepper and I are like Dumb and Dumber, so when I hung up, we still couldn’t understand why our friend sounded so horrified that we hadn’t figured that out ourselves. 

When we returned, he was still in disbelief. When I explained that we were completely stumped by it, he shook his head and muttered something about “city folk” ignorance. Yep, he wasn’t wrong.

After navigating this elusive gate, we picked up the pace.

As with all hikes, especially the longer ones, there comes that inevitable point where you think, “Well, it can’t all be amazing landscapes, right?” Fortunately, this section didn’t last long. 

We soon found ourselves back in the enchanting forest, with streams trickling beside us.

Not before tackling that fairly steep incline we’d been warned about.

On our way back, we spotted the “porcupine nests” we’d been told about, but naturally, no porcupines in sight. 

Funny story actually—I had asked what he meant by “porcupine nests,”....and in retrospect, by the way he looked at me, he should have had more sense than not to give me a heads up on how to find a gate hidden in plain sight.

I had to laugh though, knowing that Pepper didn’t even register my question, while Salt would’ve had a field day roasting me about it for eternity.

Towards the end of the trail, there are ropes to help with those “my mom might slide right into me” moments.

I love those ropes. We had encountered them at Piesangkloof,still one of my favourites. 

They make me feel so gangsta, all agile and stealth-like. I’m neither, but just give me my moment, okay?

And that, my friends, is how you spend Spring Day getting stumped by a gate,  but having a damn good time doing it.

COST - R 80  per person

DIFFICULTY - Moderate - technical in parts.

The lung buster was the steep incline at the end, but taken slowly anything's possible.

LENGTH - 8 km

TIME - 3 1/2 hours

Honestly....could have been done in 3, but we preferred to look for elusive gates and take pictures for days.

MARKERS 

Well marked for the most part. Might need a little arrow or "gate" marker here and there... you know where... for you know who!!!

HIGHLIGHTS 

The trees, the stream, the 'root walls'—honestly, most of it was pretty spectacular.  

ABLUTIONS

Yes, and they’re clean. (Sadly, nothing for the cows, though.)

SAFE FREE PARKING

AMENITIES 

We did some shopping in the little store—scored some great quality mince at a reasonable price.

We bought fresh eggs, which my 'city-slicker' Pepper found devastating because, horror of horrors, they had some chicken poop on them.

Apparently, Pepper has issues with poop in general.

Our "friend" could’ve made us some rolls, and there was even a braai set up ready for such requests. 

NOTE TO SELF

Definitely a place I would like to revisit when there has been more rain. I would imagine that would be an equally stunning but very different landscape.

 And hey, maybe next time, we'll spot that elusive gate a bit sooner!