LuckyStriker
Bachelor Dog
I took a page out of droffarc?s book and decided to explore the surrounds instead of focussing only on epic long distance trips. I have wanted to go to Stettynskloof dam for a while now. My dad was one of the engineers who modernised the old dam in 1981 and I frequently accompanied him on site.
The memories collected by a child become colourful fantasies later in life and I became convinced that a secret, lush valley existed just over the mountain.
So I looked it up on GoogleEarth and cross referenced it with the internet. It seems that the general public is not allowed into the kloof ?but there is always a way around these things.
My wife Zanie phoned Rika (she of Baviaans Bash fame) and got hold of Hans Dam?s phone number. Hans Dam is a giant of a man and the dam manager. He in turn put us in touch with the farmer who owns the lower part of the kloof. But I don?t want to get into a lot of useless detail so I?ll jump into the story and elaborate as I go along.
We raced over DuToitskloof pass. We overslept a little and needed to be in Rawsonville at 9:45 to meet the farmer who would personally unlock the coded gate for us.
The previous day, over the phone, he was initially not open to the idea of letting strangers run amok on his farm without paying for the privilege to stay in his upmarket cottages. Some gentle persuasion sorted things out though. He seemed impressed that my dad worked on the dam.
Over DuToitskloof pass? neck and down to the mouth of the tunnel. Only once or twice have I ridden a bike through the tunnel. Both times had me almost suffocating in the CO2 fumes?and they expect you to pay the same toll as a car for that?no thanks!
I don't like that tunnel at all but will never mention it to my dad since he was also briefly involved in its construction and quite proud of it.
We got to the locked gate just in time. It turned out there is a pedestrian gap next to the gate and the GS could just squeeze through. We waited for the farmer and had a brief chat. He was very friendly but we were again instructed not to leave the road and bother the paying clientele in their cottages or trout fishing beats.
The road was brilliant. It undulated up and down the valley side all along the Holsloot river. We formulated a theory about why the kloof is called Stettynskloof as opposed to be named after the river, which is the custom in South Africa. I suppose Holslootkloof is just too close to a profanity :lol: :lol:
(With a little imagination it can be translated to arse-krack-cleavage)
Another curiosity is that the mountain above the kloof is called Steynskop and a nearby farm, Steynskloof. We joked that when the original farmer was asked what the name of his farm was, he stuttered ?Ste-ste-steynskloof? thus giving the inaccurate name of Stettynskloof. :wink:
Crazy? Someone must have uprooted this tree and decided to re-plant it upside down, just for the hell of it.
Majestic mountains and their beautiful peaks.
We are now deep into the kloof and out of the farmer?s land. The section from here on out belongs to the Department of Water Affairs and is managed by Cape Nature. Access is strictly controlled but permission easily obtained if you make the right phone call. Because we went through the farmer we didn't need a permit.
The slues overflow thing? I remember when the dam was re-opened in 1981, my dad took me to witness the demolition of the upper dam wall. Water filled up the newly engineered dam quickly and soon the torrent rushed over the overflow with a great roar. It was most impressive.
On this day the water level was considerably lower due to the dry summers and thirsty Rawsonville farms.
On the dam wall. It is an earthen retaining wall consisting mostly of blasted rock and forms part of a natural geographic feature of the mountains. We spied a hiking trail in the distance and decided to find out more about the route. Perhaps we will return in the future and walk it.
Dam wall. Below the dam wall lie the 5-house community of Stettynskloof. Naturally all the gardens are filled with flowers and emerald green lawns. No water restrictions here!
Dam!
Double damn!
After a little picnic we headed home again. All along the route snaked my dad?s pipeline of which he was so proud. I remember being much more impressed by the damn but he just shrugged it off and kept on trying to impress his 9year old son with tales of aquaduct engineering principals.
It?s a dangerous road and many a construction vehicle met its doom on the valley floor below.
Dwarsberg Trout Hideaway ? these are one of the cottages for rent if you are affluent enough and into fly fishing.
Nice farm roads
Exiting the kloof and admiring the beautiful vineyards of Rawsonville. We took one particularly sand track right through the vineyards just to spice up the ride.
We took a short detour to Goudini Spa. As a child I was always thrilled when we went to the spa for summer holidays. ?Goudini??it sounded Italian or something. It was the most exotic place a lad like me had ever dreamed of.
Notice the enormous text on the mountain. It used to be very fashionable to deface mountains with large clearings and painted rocks to spell out your town?s name.
We also stopped at the Dam Fine Caf�©. Perhaps the Wild Dogs should come out here for a weekend. The camping facilities are great, the bar fantastic and a petting zoo and ponies for the kids.
And so we headed for home. Over Bainskloof pass and it?s rocky precipice. It is on this road where I saw my dad give in to fury. We went for a family biking weekend and my mom rode pillion on my dad?s Honda CB750 while I held tightly onto Uncle Ellis on his Kawasaki GT750 two stroke. He forgot all about me and raced over the mountain at breakneck speed. When my dad finally caught up with him, he beat him to a begging pulp, while I, a 7year old boy stood quivering on the edge of the road. I have never seen my dad as angry as that before or since. It scared the shit out of me because he is the most laid back, generous and understanding person I know.
View over the Boland. In the middle ground you can just make out the town of Wellington where I grew up?mostly?being a son of a civil engineer had me living all over the country.
I don?t complain about it. It is after all where I got my passion for travelling from. Thanks Dad!
But there is always time for a quick exploration of the many logging trails before leaving the pass behind.
The route
Thank you. I?m LuckyStriker and you just reminisced with me
The memories collected by a child become colourful fantasies later in life and I became convinced that a secret, lush valley existed just over the mountain.
So I looked it up on GoogleEarth and cross referenced it with the internet. It seems that the general public is not allowed into the kloof ?but there is always a way around these things.
My wife Zanie phoned Rika (she of Baviaans Bash fame) and got hold of Hans Dam?s phone number. Hans Dam is a giant of a man and the dam manager. He in turn put us in touch with the farmer who owns the lower part of the kloof. But I don?t want to get into a lot of useless detail so I?ll jump into the story and elaborate as I go along.
We raced over DuToitskloof pass. We overslept a little and needed to be in Rawsonville at 9:45 to meet the farmer who would personally unlock the coded gate for us.
The previous day, over the phone, he was initially not open to the idea of letting strangers run amok on his farm without paying for the privilege to stay in his upmarket cottages. Some gentle persuasion sorted things out though. He seemed impressed that my dad worked on the dam.
Over DuToitskloof pass? neck and down to the mouth of the tunnel. Only once or twice have I ridden a bike through the tunnel. Both times had me almost suffocating in the CO2 fumes?and they expect you to pay the same toll as a car for that?no thanks!
I don't like that tunnel at all but will never mention it to my dad since he was also briefly involved in its construction and quite proud of it.
We got to the locked gate just in time. It turned out there is a pedestrian gap next to the gate and the GS could just squeeze through. We waited for the farmer and had a brief chat. He was very friendly but we were again instructed not to leave the road and bother the paying clientele in their cottages or trout fishing beats.
The road was brilliant. It undulated up and down the valley side all along the Holsloot river. We formulated a theory about why the kloof is called Stettynskloof as opposed to be named after the river, which is the custom in South Africa. I suppose Holslootkloof is just too close to a profanity :lol: :lol:
(With a little imagination it can be translated to arse-krack-cleavage)
Another curiosity is that the mountain above the kloof is called Steynskop and a nearby farm, Steynskloof. We joked that when the original farmer was asked what the name of his farm was, he stuttered ?Ste-ste-steynskloof? thus giving the inaccurate name of Stettynskloof. :wink:
Crazy? Someone must have uprooted this tree and decided to re-plant it upside down, just for the hell of it.
Majestic mountains and their beautiful peaks.
We are now deep into the kloof and out of the farmer?s land. The section from here on out belongs to the Department of Water Affairs and is managed by Cape Nature. Access is strictly controlled but permission easily obtained if you make the right phone call. Because we went through the farmer we didn't need a permit.
The slues overflow thing? I remember when the dam was re-opened in 1981, my dad took me to witness the demolition of the upper dam wall. Water filled up the newly engineered dam quickly and soon the torrent rushed over the overflow with a great roar. It was most impressive.
On this day the water level was considerably lower due to the dry summers and thirsty Rawsonville farms.
On the dam wall. It is an earthen retaining wall consisting mostly of blasted rock and forms part of a natural geographic feature of the mountains. We spied a hiking trail in the distance and decided to find out more about the route. Perhaps we will return in the future and walk it.
Dam wall. Below the dam wall lie the 5-house community of Stettynskloof. Naturally all the gardens are filled with flowers and emerald green lawns. No water restrictions here!
Dam!
Double damn!
After a little picnic we headed home again. All along the route snaked my dad?s pipeline of which he was so proud. I remember being much more impressed by the damn but he just shrugged it off and kept on trying to impress his 9year old son with tales of aquaduct engineering principals.
It?s a dangerous road and many a construction vehicle met its doom on the valley floor below.
Dwarsberg Trout Hideaway ? these are one of the cottages for rent if you are affluent enough and into fly fishing.
Nice farm roads
Exiting the kloof and admiring the beautiful vineyards of Rawsonville. We took one particularly sand track right through the vineyards just to spice up the ride.
We took a short detour to Goudini Spa. As a child I was always thrilled when we went to the spa for summer holidays. ?Goudini??it sounded Italian or something. It was the most exotic place a lad like me had ever dreamed of.
Notice the enormous text on the mountain. It used to be very fashionable to deface mountains with large clearings and painted rocks to spell out your town?s name.
We also stopped at the Dam Fine Caf�©. Perhaps the Wild Dogs should come out here for a weekend. The camping facilities are great, the bar fantastic and a petting zoo and ponies for the kids.
And so we headed for home. Over Bainskloof pass and it?s rocky precipice. It is on this road where I saw my dad give in to fury. We went for a family biking weekend and my mom rode pillion on my dad?s Honda CB750 while I held tightly onto Uncle Ellis on his Kawasaki GT750 two stroke. He forgot all about me and raced over the mountain at breakneck speed. When my dad finally caught up with him, he beat him to a begging pulp, while I, a 7year old boy stood quivering on the edge of the road. I have never seen my dad as angry as that before or since. It scared the shit out of me because he is the most laid back, generous and understanding person I know.
View over the Boland. In the middle ground you can just make out the town of Wellington where I grew up?mostly?being a son of a civil engineer had me living all over the country.
I don?t complain about it. It is after all where I got my passion for travelling from. Thanks Dad!
But there is always time for a quick exploration of the many logging trails before leaving the pass behind.
The route
Thank you. I?m LuckyStriker and you just reminisced with me
