The last time I travelled with my great friend Sibusiso Vilane, was when we rode the JoBerg2C back in 2019. I’d just lost my Dad, and struggled to complete the race, but Sibu supported me with great strength, and we enjoyed a few days on Safari to wind down. COVID then came, shut world travel down, and I still see parts reeling from its aftermath. Sibu and I had spoken about crossing the central section of the Drakensburgs many times, and after much planning and packing, I set off late in August 2025.
We met in the town of Nelspruit, and though we hadn’t seen each other for years, it felt like only a day since we had last met.
After a couple of days sorting and catching up, we hit the road for an eight hour drive to the Drakensburgs. Unlike in the UK, there is so much space here, with rolling lowveld for mile after mile, interspersed with occasional towns and mines. The roads are generally straight, and well surfaced, but the minivans drive like Wacky Races..!
We arrived a couple of hours before sunset, and I met other members of the team. Adele, Sibo, Lucky, Geoffrey and Zee.
The sun falls quickly here and the stunning sunset was soon over, but I felt at peace staring into its dwindling rays.
The next morning we were up at 5am, and leaving at six. Ahead of us was a long, hard and hot day, gaining the escarpment. I met the rest of the crew – Bronwyn and Zuki at the Cathedral Peak Hotel, and after introductions, photos and laughter, we hit the trail.
To say the route was precipitous would be putting it mildly. Rolling hills of grass gave way to rock steps, scrambles and technical moves, only enhanced by the tower block of a rucksack on my back. With a day sack, you’d be skipping, but not with six days food and fuel, alongside tents etc. Just for fun, let’s throw some altitude in the mix..! There was little respite from the ascent, the sun and the bags weight, that even I started to wonder what the hell I was doing. I’d put the ascent on par with the Hornli Ridge in parts.
We exited a tight gully, and rounded a corner to see the escarpment. Head torches were quickly dinned as the sun fell, and thankfully only a short walk downhill brought us to our campsite.
Pitching tents in the dark is never fun, but Sibu and I were soon eating and brewing up. Suddenly all the world was good.
The next morning my alarm sounded at 5am, and by 6:30 we were packed, but others lagged a little behind. Sunlight is everything here, and we needed to use every moment. Altitude began to play with our lungs, and we passed 3000m a few times in the day. Every hill made my lungs burn. The scenery was stunning, with small kralls for the shepherds dotted around. The valleys were wide, and we followed a river for much of the day, which at least gave us an ample water supply. Everyone was fighting the thinning air though, and time never stops. The sunset was unbelievable, but we were still walking two hours past it by headlamp again.
Exhausted, we made camp in the best place we could find, and called it a day. Everyone was aching, and needed food, hydration and sleep.
The next morning, things changed. We split the group, and three headed down the mountain, heading early for home, leaving six of us to continue. There were many tears and hugs as we parted, but they were spent, both physically and mentally.
Up and down we went for the rest of the day, under more sunny skies, but cloud was battering itself against the cliffs, in a vain attempt to reach us. Shepherds and their sheep littered the valleys, and we ascended Champagne Castle, which as the second highest peak in South Africa, stands at 3149m (10,331ft). There was still plenty of snow on the rocks and a stiff wind blew. It didn’t albeit all day, but from a British point of view, it was quite warm.
We camped against a beautiful river, with a good hours daylight to sort ourselves out, before darkness fell. What a difference daylight makes when camping.
The next day was our last on the plateau. We were away by 7am, and though the sun was beautifully warm, the wind was incredibly stiff. It reminded me of winter days on the Cairngorms..! At times we struggled to stand, particularly with our large rucksacks acting as sails.
The ridges were wide, but still pretty hair raising, as the drops below were hundreds of feet. Thankfully we all safely submitted Mafadi, the highest peak in South Africa 3450m (11,381ft), before descending to our camp. Horses and sheep grazed the pasture, and local shepherds kept a watchful eye over them. I gained a couple of blisters on my heels, which isn’t fun when they’re build of skin grafts, but I dressed them and did well.
The next morning was still blustery, and as we descended the Judges Pass, it almost got beyond a joke. The path was incredibly loose, wove between huge boulders and balanced on bone breaking drops. I was almost taken off my feet twice by gusts, and we all braced ourselves time and again. This was not a place to chat, take photos or think of anything else, but where your feet went.
After a couple of hours down, the angle eased, and waving grass greeted us. I’ve always enjoyed watching it run like waves in the sea, but today the wind was still strong and buffeting. At least we didn’t slide too much.
Looking back up at the pass, it was impressive to say the least, with vertical cliffs flanking the ever opening cleft in the rocks, and a tiny stream cutting its way steadily through the escarpment.
Thankfully the hard bit of the day was done, and after a well earned break we traversed the contour ridges, all the way to the Centenary Hut. Here we camped and I put what was left of my feet up. My knees suffer these days, particularly since I was knocked off my bike by a car some years ago. They’re never recovered, and though taping and supports help, they don’t like descending, particularly with a big bag on my back. My skin grafts were tired, but there was only a single days walking left.
We were greeted by an awe inspiring sunrise and began our final descent into a dramatic cliff sided valley, which twisted and turned as the river had carved it. Baboons barked across the valley and man made signs began to appear. Society was close as hand. I don’t say civilisation, because I class the mountains, valleys, hills and seas a damn site more civilised that our time hassled and created world.
We entered the camp at Injisuti, and loaded onto the transfer back to Didima. The stars shone bright that night and the Southern Cross lit the sky above our celebrations.
We all headed our own ways the next morning. I was sad to see the crew split, but there’s always another mountain to climb. Sibu and I spent a few days relaxing on safari in the Kruger National Park, where I finally saw a leopard in with wild, after 17 years of trying. I suppose some things come to those who wait…
My thanks to Terra Nova Equipment and Extremities for their support during this trip.