Kaapschehoop-Day One: A Short Hike, A Big Memory and a Dark Shadow

Gathering the Tribe

Every epic hiking weekend starts with a tribe. Mine? My hiking pal, "Munchkin", The Sassy Siblings, their plus one, and another couple I’d met on previous hikes.

Think of it as a mismatched little crew, stitched together by a shared love of hiking.

Munchkin and I drove through early, determined to sneak in a short hike on day one. The Sassy Siblings and their plus one decided to join us.

First stop: permits. R 30 per person, per day — the price of a cappuccino in Joburg — except instead of froth and foam, it buys you silence, space, and tranquility.

Me 'n Munchkin

We purchased ours at the first place we saw as we entered the town— a lovely little establishment called Bohemian Groove Cafe. We lingered there a fair amount over the weekend.

It’s the kind of place where the coffee feels unhurried, and time has its own pace. More than just paperwork and permits, it became a quiet moment to settle into Kaapschehoop’s rhythm.

The Lookout Tower Trail

We picked the Lookout Tower Trail, a 3 km wander. Small on distance, huge on soul.

Munchkin and a Sibling

We moved at our own pace — no rush, no race. Some of us walked quietly, soaking in the stillness. Others filled the air with chatter and laughter.

That’s the gift of hiking: it makes space for both — stillness and joy, solitude and togetherness.

At the lookout, silence won. The view stopped us cold. Not in a “gushy, keep moving” kind of way. In a “this hush feels holy” kind of way. Then, as it always does, laughter bubbled back. We stayed there for a while — snacking, chatting and laughing.

That was a moment I will never forget. Somehow, that little tribe bonded right there.

When a Hike Becomes More Than a Hike

Some trails are measured in kilometers. Others in moments. This one — short, unassuming, almost ordinary on paper — will stay with me, resurfacing when I need it most, a quiet reminder of what is real, and what truly matters. .

It wasn’t only the view, though the view itself was unforgettable. It was the people beside me, the softness of late-afternoon air and voices blending into something bigger than the trail.

Looking Back at Day One

So that was day one in Kaapsehoop: a small hike with a big heart. The tribe gathered, the permits were bought, the trail was walked, and a memory was made.

I walked off that trail grateful. Grateful — not just for the view, but for the ridiculous privilege of being there in that exact moment with that exact bunch of humans.

The Plus One and the Siblings

The Shadow Over Kaapschehoop’s Wild Horses

And yet, the day carried its shadow, and the weekend quietly echoed it. We learned that just weeks earlier, the remains of a stallion and three mares had been found in the forest outside town. The assumption was poaching.

These beautiful wild horses, symbols of Kaapschehoop’s freedom and spirit, are not as safe as we like to imagine.

It broke something in me.

This is why I hate humans sometimes — if I’m honest, most of the time. I hate the way beauty is forever shadowed by our capacity to destroy it. These wild horses, meant to embody freedom and grace, undone by the very species that should be protecting them.

Even in the glow of laughter and belonging, that truth clung to me. A reminder that even places steeped in magic are never immune to loss.