Delta Park: Where Rain Meets Cosmos, but Zero Regrets!

So, one Monday morning, I’m scrolling Facebook—and bam—stunning Delta Park pics.

Excuse me, who is she? Glowing like a damn nature goddess and didn’t even make my list? I feel ghosted. By a trail.

Then, there and then—a message from a hiking group: “Delta Park. Saturday.”

Kismet? Destiny? Divine intervention? Who cares—I was in.

But for the last few—I don’t know, decades?—in this city, the second anyone even whispers “weekend” and “hike” in the same breath, the weather gods sit up like, “Oh? You thought you were hiking this weekend?”

That's where they begin their petty vengeance - spontaneous downpours. Honestly, at this point, I think there is a weather gods WhatsApp group dedicated solely to ruining my hikes.

This time, it was a crisp, passive-aggressive 15°C with rain, obviously. Just enough to keep things miserable, and mildly traumatic. Adorable.

One by one, people dropped out as apparently, hiking in the rain, at 15°C, at stupid o’clock in the morning… is not for the faint of heart—or the mentally sound.

But me? I am neither of those things. I’m different. (And by “different,” I mean “delusionally committed to a hike once it’s in the calendar.”)

In the meantime, I posted a meme. A wildly dramatic, over-the-top eulogy for the slow, soggy death of my weekend hiking dreams. The comments section? We were united—bonded by mutual betrayal.

Well… except for that person.“Hiking in the rain builds character!” he chirped. Yes. So does heartbreak, Brad. Doesn’t mean we go looking for it.

But whatever. I’d done it before, I could do it again. If I had to go it alone, so be it. I was prepared. And then it hit me: I’d never actually been to Delta Park before.

Maybe this was the universe giving me a chance to be... responsible? Instead of marching around like a damp mountain goat with a martyr complex?

Right? …Right?

And just as I’m teetering on the edge of growth and self-preservation, I hear it: Pepper, my offspring, striding into the room, announcing he’s in.

Because apparently, this level of chaotic stubbornness?It’s hereditary.

So, the next morning, we left before sunrise (because clearly, we hate ourselves).

Naturally, we arrived at the wrong car park—because if Pepper and I don’t start a hike confused, is it even real? At this point, it's less of a mistake and more of a tradition. A ritual, even.

The first ten minutes? Meh. Wet. Grey. Boring. But about ten minutes in, the mood started to shift. The scenery began to get all misty and mysterious and trees and a field of cosmos start popping up.

We passed runners. Yes. In the rain. At that point, the hike started becoming a quiet competition of “who here is the most emotionally unstable?”

But yes—despite the rain, the detours, and the doubts… there were little patches of pretty scattered along the way.

Honestly though, I think I’ve been giving myself (and Pepper) way too much credit. Yes, we did a trail…But I doubt we did THE trail?

Eventually, we stumbled across what was the actual parking lot—Meanwhile, we were parked somewhere that screamed “Enter at your own peril. We do not validate poor choices.”

One of the park run organizers gestured us up a hill and said something poetic like, “You’ll see the cosmos, then just loop around from there.”

We had already seen cosmos. Or thought we had.

So off we went. Again. More zigzags. More scenic detours. Eventually, we dragged ourselves back to the car.

Weirdly? I felt... satisfied. Not enlightened. Not reborn—just glad I went for a walk amongst beauty instead of lying in bed, cursing the weather like it personally wronged me.

The main attraction—the blooming cosmos—out there glistening like damp little overachievers, desperate to claw back some credibility after the whole rain fiasco.

And yes, maybe they were counting on me not Googling what this place looks like when it’s dry and sunny, but you know what? I did, and now I know what could’ve been.

But worse.....apparently there is a waterfall.

WHERE?? HOW?? Was it camouflaged by the fog? The mud?

But you know what? In a weird, soggy way… it was all kind of lovely. No regrets.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. Preferably with someone who, for the love of all things sacred—isn’t related to me.

Oh, and on a sunny day. Maybe one where waterfalls aren’t hiding in plain sight like cruel little secrets and the cosmos are able to shine.

Would I recommend it? Absolutely. For those of you who want a nice park walk not to far away.

RATING

AREA - Randburg

COST - Free

DIFFICULTY - Easy

LENGTH 

Apparently 8.7-km...have no idea what we did though.

TIME - 1 HR

ELEVATION -  None

MARKERS 

Not really, but to the average Joe (i.e not me and Pepper), should be self explanatory

ABLUTIONS

Yes, as you start...if you park in the correct parking. For me and Pepper...half way through the trail

SAFE FREE PARKING

Absolutely—as long as you’re not me or Pepper.

AMENITIES 

None

NOTE TO SELF

When hiking with Pepper, pick a trail so idiot-proof it could be navigated by a distracted toddler chasing butterflies. Blindfolded.

DOGGIE FRIENDLY

Absolutely

(TO)SOLO OR (NO)SOLO

Sure, probably safe to solo... but because it was raining, everyone else with common sense stayed home. So, the frequency of others is hard to gauge.Gut feel? Yes, but maybe not during the week when I imagine it would be very quiet.