12 February
I am glad I took it easy yesterday.
Today we set off on a hike and bike adventure. Leave mountain bikes at Woody Cape Backpackers, drive to Cannon Rocks, then hike to Woody Cape and cycle back to Cannon Rocks.
We would have the wind at our backs for the hike- rather a headwind on the bicycle on a gravel road, than on a hike on the beach.
The hike started off great and we wound our way through a forest. Then we hit the beach. Or rather, it hit us. I have never experienced a sandblasting as ferocious as today. It felt like my legs had been set on fire, while some dragged sand paper up and down them.
We made a beeline for the water and the wet sand.
The wind was strong, but bearable, and we only get hit by the occasional wall of sand.
The walking was good, with wet sandy sections, rocks, and ridges. We took a short break and ate biscuits washed down with coffee. Then we hit another section of beach. This one relatively flat, and vast.
It felt as if we were stuck in limbo. The wind blasted, a constant roar in our ears, the sand whipped past, and no matter how many steps we took, the tree-line we were aiming for didn’t seem to get any closer. It felt like we had been walking for days. Minutes felt like hours. What felt like kilometers were barely even 200m stretches.
Thank goodness we had had that coffee break, otherwise I might have cracked. Eventually, we reached the unreachable point, scrambled up a dune, and were back in the forest.
After a few minutes we popped out on the lawn of the Woody Cape Backpackers. Ahaaaaaaaaaaaa! I dumped my pack, pulled off my shoes and socks, and emptied half the beach out of my shoes.
We enjoyed ice cold water, sandwiches and coffee. After over 3 hours of walking, it was good to be off my feet.
But... there is no rest for the crazy. We donned our cycling kit and set off into the wind. After negotiating a steep climb, we put our heads down and pedaled. The wind had picked up and the sea was a frothy white mess.
Uphills were tackled painstakingly slowly, and we had to pedal to maintain speed while going downhill. It was tough, but not painful. Though there was a point where, head down and arms tucked in, I was telling myself to “embrace the suck.”
Cows in the field alongside the road were running faster than us. At one point the wind stopped, and I found myself thinking “Have I died?”
It was as if Eskom had flipped the off switch. It lasted all of a second though, and then the roar was back.
But, we made good time. I predicted the 20km stretch would take us 2.5hrs. We did 22km in just under 2hrs. The final 10 minutes were with a tailwind. Oh sweet relief. Just not having the wind roar made such a difference.
We had done it. A long, grueling day (was it only today? Feels like I have been away for weeks).
Caked with sand, salt, dust and sweat, I struggled to keep my eyes open on the drive home. Content.
Topic: My African Dream (Read 160885 times)
