Day 3 at Lesoba: The Epic Birthday Hike

So, the only hike of the weekend that actually started with the entire team.

Unfortunately, my birthday hike was so monumentally, life-alteringly epic that being brief simply isn't an option

There were far too many layers to this trail for a short version.

In fact, I briefly considered turning this report into a trilogy.

Fortunately for everyone involved - including myself - my attention span and work ethic teamed up to prevent that from happening.

The weekend's itinerary was beautifully sensible.

Friday - the welcome hike.

Saturday - the big hike.

Sunday - my actual birthday - a shorter hike because there was a late afternoon braai planned and nobody wanted to spend the entire day on a mountain.

It was a sensible plan.

Naturally, none of it happened that way.

To be fair, Friday's hike delivered exactly what it promised.

Saturday was supposed to be the main event, but if I'm honest, I felt slightly deflated.

Once you've wandered through Clarens and Fouriesburg the bar gets set incredibly high.

It ended at a crevice that became far too technical for us to safely complete.

I made peace with it.

Mostly.

On Sunday morning I woke up with the feeling that perhaps the epic hike should have happened on my actual birthday.

Apparently the universe overheard me, because that's when it said, "Hold my beer."

Wait... We're Doing What?

At some point the group decided we were doing "something" in reverse.

I wasn't paying attention because as usual I was busy taking photographs and contributing very little to navigation.

What I did not expect was that "something" meant doing the entire previous day's route in reverse - including descending the very gulley we hadn't been able to complete the day before.

A literal full-circle moment.

Subtle, universe.

Very subtle.

The Trail

The day started on the same route we'd followed on Friday, which unfortunately meant hills - my nemesis.

At one point Basil gave the group a brief recap speech regarding Boris and Friday's "almost ran off a cliff moment."

She specifically mentioned that nobody needed to see how close he got to the edge.

This was apparently interpreted as a challenge.

Within seconds, Sage and Our Trusty Leader were off to conduct field research.

As the group's unofficial documentarian, I felt duty-bound to follow.

Basil insisted she wasn't offended.

I remain unconvinced.

Trust Exercises

Eventually the route started being about adventures.

We reached a rock wall that looked climbable. I was still evaluating my options when I was instructed to stand with my back against the wall - which seemed unnecessarily police procedural for a birthday hike.

The next thing I knew, people grabbed my arms, and I was being hauled upward with absolutely no control over the situation.

For a control freak, this was deeply unsettling.

I contributed absolutely nothing - beyond existing and maintaining approximately the same weight throughout the process.

The team deserves full credit for the ascent.

I was essentially cargo.

My 60th Birthday Coffee Shop

Once everyone else had been physically dragged up like over sized baggage, we tackled a technical incline and emerged into an astonishing rock formation.

The stone was so smooth it literally looked manufactured.

Nearby was a cave opening where we stopped for coffee and snacks.

Now, I've had a birthday coffee in plenty places - but none of them came close to drinking coffee in a cave halfway up a mountain surrounded by people who are apparently willing to drag me up vertical surfaces when necessary.

If I could have designed the perfect venue for a 60th birthday coffee, this would have been it.

At that point Basil made the very sensible decision to head back with Boris.

I hated splitting the group, but it was undoubtedly the right call.

The rest of us continued through landscapes that constantly remind you how tiny and insignificant you are in the grand scheme of things.

We eventually reached a pile of boulders that we scrambled over.

The scramble itself was an absolute adrenaline rush.

We did have to turn back shortly afterwards after accidentally following part of the old route, but we soon found the new trail markers and carried on.

Eventually Clove - my newly inducted Spice - and I found ourselves at the front.

After another technical scramble, we reached the highest point of the day's climb.

Waiting for us was a scene that felt almost unreal - a lone black horse stood on the far side of the mountain while endless land stretched beyond it.

It literally looked post-apocalyptic - like humanity has vanished but somehow the horses were doing absolutely fine.

That’s when “Our Trusty Leader” informed us that he, Sage, and her mini-me were going to turn back.

I was devastated.

Outwardly - calm, composed, supportive.

Inwardly - betrayal, confusion, and the urge to dramatically ask “but how will we go on?””

Lost, Found and Exactly Where We Needed to Be

The group shrank to four.

We trekked across vast mountain tops like explorers - passing isolated huts, goats and even a lone donkey.

Eventually the trail markers disappeared.

This is never reassuring.

Particularly when you're on top of a mountain and your navigation strategy largely consists of collective optimism.

They wandered.

Debated.

Squinted into the distance.

They performed the traditional hiking ritual of pretending they knew exactly where we were.

I took photos.

Then at the perfect moment somebody thought they could hear Sage, her mini me and our "Trusty Leader."

They had decided to catch up and join us.

I cannot adequately explain why that made me so happy, but it did.

Some people don’t just join the hike - they complete it.

Full Circle

Eventually we reached the top of the infamous gulley - the same one that had stopped us the day before.

This time we scrambled down it.

Carefully.

Slowly.

It was brilliant.

Technical scrambling has the opposite effect on me to steep climbs.

Climbing endless hills makes me feel old - scrambling over rocks makes me feel capable.

Possibly delusional.

But capable.

I looked around at this mighty tribe - Clove and I 60 - none of us the youngest, the fastest or the strongest - and realised what resilience and determination can achieve.

Gangster Grannies

Clove and I reached the bottom first like a pair of gangster grannies and eventually reunited with Basil and Boris, who had successfully completed their own adventure.

There were minor injuries, sore feet, blisters and people had started running out of water one by one.

But this hike was everything.

And then some.

So, to summarise - I got lost on a mountain, found my people again, conquered a gully, survived several technical scrambles and had coffee in a cave.

And honestly - I highly recommend it.

If turning sixty means spending a weekend surrounded by good people, spectacular scenery, questionable decisions and a dog with absolutely no regard for personal safety, then I suppose growing older isn't entirely terrible.

Just don't expect me to embrace it graciously.