Lesoba - My 60th Birthday Hiking Weekend - Because Apparently Suffering Builds Character

The big decision about where to spend my 60th birthday weekend turned out to be more complicated than it should have been.

My original plan was to head off with my children to the Free State, as I had for my previous two birthdays.

Those trips had been warm, fuzzy, wholesome affairs full of family bonding and all the things people expect when they hear the words "milestone birthday."

Unfortunately, work and family commitments intervened.

That left me with three options.

Head off alone to Magoebaskloof, which I've wanted to visit for ages and which seemed like the sort of brave, independent thing people are supposed to do when they come of age - even if mine has taken sixty years;

Visit family and friends in Cape Town;

Fall back on the good old Free State - the hiking equivalent of comfort food.

The Tribe

I mentioned my birthday plans to my hiking pals and the Seasoning Rack - mostly because I thought it would be polite to let them know where my body might eventually be recovered.

Honestly, I wasn't expecting much - but my people showed up.

Whether it was for me, the hiking, or pure FOMO, I genuinely don't care - they came, and I couldn't have felt more blessed.

The birthday club eventually grew to eight.

First there was C, who has now officially earned induction into the Hall of Seasoning and shall henceforth be known as "Clove" - a strong, straightforward presence at first, but underneath that is a warm, steady nature that shows itself over time.

Then Basil announced she and Boris would be joining.

This was significant.

Basil does not travel on impulse - she has responsibilities, a better half, and, believe it or not, Boris even has a stepsister.

The fact that she packed up the car and made the trip felt incredibly special.

E-Squared, who had originally planned a family getaway in the area, graciously pivoted into my birthday celebration.

Then came the surprise last minute news that my day one, Sage, her Mini-Me, and Our Trusty Leader would be joining.

At that point, I was feeling ridiculously spoiled.

By this stage I was beginning to suspect people had misunderstood the invitation and thought I was offering free cash.

Discovering Lesoba

Finding accommodation was the next challenge.

Fortunately, I stumbled across Lesoba, a spectacular farm run by the equally spectacular Rule, who demonstrated the patience of a saint throughout the booking process, because, in true form, I simply told everyone to deal directly with the venue and hoped for the best.

Miraculously, it all worked out.

The accommodation was beautiful. The farm was beautiful. The views were beautiful.

The Dinosaur Trail

Naturally, after a four-hour drive, the sensible thing to do was embark on a four-hour hike.

Our first adventure was the Dinosaur Trail, described by Rule as an "easy, flat walk."

The trail was neither flat nor particularly easy. It wasn't a death march, but it certainly wasn't the gentle stroll we'd been promised.

What it was, however, was absolutely beautiful and the perfect introduction to this spectacular corner of the Free State, where dramatic sandstone formations, as always, stole the show, wildlife made guest appearances, and kraal ruins reminded us that we weren't nearly as adventurous as we liked to think we were.

The early arrivals were myself, Basil, Boris, and E-Squared.

None of them had met before, but nothing accelerates friendships quite like collective suffering on a hiking trail.

Boris the Mountain Goat

Boris deserves his own section.

Basil had spent weeks debating whether to bring him.

As a distinguished gentleman approaching ten years old, she felt perhaps he should start slowing down.

The flaw in this argument is that nobody consulted Boris. He remains convinced he is part mountain goat - and so do I.

Shortly after we started hiking, Boris sprinted ahead, rerouted, and very nearly gave the entire group a collective cardiac event.

We soon realised that he'd rerouted because his paws had skidded alarmingly close to the edge of a drop-off - "paw skids on the brink" close.

For one brief moment, everyone forgot how to breathe.

Except me - I was busy documenting the evidence like some sort of wildlife crime scene investigator.

Basil spent the rest of the hike traumatised, periodically reliving the incident for our benefit. I assured her she was overreacting and that Boris was perfectly fine.

Meanwhile, internally, I was planning a full emotional collapse because I've become embarrassingly attached to the furry fool.

Back at Lesoba, we were greeted by the always bubbly Sage, Mini-Me and our trusty leader.

Even better, two of my longest-standing hiking spices finally met each other for the first time - which seemed entirely appropriate.

If I was going to celebrate six decades on the planet, it felt like the perfect occasion for two of my favourite people to finally occupy the same piece of trail.

I was showered with gifts despite repeatedly explaining that it wasn't technically my birthday yet, and therefore I expected a second round of presents on the actual day.

The jury is still out on whether that strategy will pay off.

What an incredible start to my Birthday weekend.