Suikerboschfontein Day 3: To Hike or Not to Hike

Sunday morning.

After three hours of driving to our weekend destination on Friday, there was clearly only one logical pre-departure activity - wake up at dawn and climb a mountain.

Because one must.

I was, of course, the enthusiastic instigator.

“We simply must hike,” I declared, with the conviction of someone who also insists on being home before lunchtime on a Sunday.

I contain multitudes.

Mostly contradictions.

The decision to hike had more ups and downs than the actual trail - and we hadn’t even started walking yet.

By Saturday night we had kind of decided who was hiking, roughly where we were going, approximately how many kilometres it would be, and sort of how long it would take.

The only firm detail was that we would be back by 10 sharp.

Obviously.

We are nothing if not precise in our vagueness.

Sunday morning arrived after yet another horrendous night’s sleep.

Naturally, I briefly considered a dignified exit.

I mean… that was the whole point of driving solo, wasn’t it?

Independence.

Autonomy.

....the ability to dramatically withdraw from plans I enthusiastically created 12 hours earlier.

This was my vehicle.

My schedule. My chaos.

I was the master of my destiny - for a solid seven minutes.

But Shereen, who I’ve been hiking with for the last few weekends and who is almost as unhinged as I am, asked, “Are you hiking?”

Obviously, I no longer had a choice.

By the time we had our ducks vaguely aligned, we were a neat little crew of four - a mini reunion from our previous Boksburg Hiking Club weekend at De Wildt.

What was meant to be a “quick and easy” stroll turned into something that felt suspiciously like… cardio.

The Trail

We set off through the most breathtaking rolling hills. Pure peace.

Absolute serenity.

The terrain was different from the rock formations we’d tackled the day before - softer, flowing, deceptively gentle.

As we drifted down a long, beautiful decline, almost in spiritual harmony, we collectively remembered the one universal hiking truth:

What goes down… is absolutely coming back up.

Our destination? Ancient San rock art and the "Baboon Hotel "(Bobbejaanhotel).

The distance was 3 km out and 3 km back.

The trail delivered technical sections, ladders and some scrambles.

Just enough spice to make it another excellent adventure.

The weather was cooler and less sunny than the previous day.

We eventually reached the rock art.

There’s something deeply humbling about seeing markings that have survived centuries - outlasting storms - while the things that kept you up at 2 am barely survive a week.

The urgency we assign to everything feels slightly misplaced.

Perspective settles over you - reminding you how small you are in the most comforting way possible.

Then came the ladder leading up to the Baboon Hotel.

I took one look and immediately sensed it would not be worth the climb.

Was that intuition?

Fatigue?

A deep desire to not do unnecessary upper-body work?

We’ll never know.

Had we been leisurely and carefree, I might have gone up for the adventure.

But adventure, at that point, felt optional.

So I did what any responsible hiker would do.

I sent the others up.

They returned confirming my suspicion: nothing spectacular to see.

Teamwork comes in many forms.

Rock Chats

We settled onto a rock and had one of those mountain-top conversations - the kind that only happens when the world feels perfectly still.

Time stretched. The air felt clean. Everyone was content.

And then - because we are nothing if not efficient - we made it back at exactly 10:00 on the dot.

I genuinely don’t think it could have been planned better.

That side of the world feels entirely different - all rolling hills and peaceful landscapes (don’t be fooled; they have a quiet way of humbling you).

There’s a softness to it, and I always come back from a hike in that area feeling strangely restored, like the landscape has gently rearranged my insides.

It’s noticeably less brutal than our Magaliesberg hikes.

Out there, you’re not fighting the mountain; you’re having a conversation with it.

You just get something different from it.

Mainly oxygen… but also perspective, and that rare, fleeting sense that everything is exactly where it should be - including you.

The perfect way to close an incredible weekend.

Thank you again to the Boksburg Hiking Club for another adventure I very confidently claimed I would never do again.

Because let’s be honest: I will dramatically announce I’m done with communal weekends.

I will mean it.

I will stand by it.

And then the next WhatsApp message will drop…

And I will absolutely reply, “I’m in.”

So Why Do I Keep Doing This?

Because every time I almost talk myself out of something and then don’t, something shifts.

Maybe not gracefully.

Maybe not quietly.

But enough.

And as long as I don’t end up back in the airport parking lot, I’d call that progress.

Final Thoughts

If you are emotionally attached to your “not 4x4” vehicle… think carefully.

The destination is beautiful.

There’s more to explore.

Will I go back?

Probably not, but understand why so many do.