A report on the 1998 BMC/MCof SA exchange.

“This is Africa” declared Snort. He leaned back, arms spread wide and repeated himself: “This is Africa”.

Sitting as we were around a preposterously well stocked breakfast table with a swimming pool immediately behind and the surrounding bush kept at bay by well tended garden, a pedantic soul might have argued that this didn’t seem very African at all.

But we knew what Snort meant- ‘This is climbing in South Africa’. An early start on a crisp morning, a high speed drive down empty roads surrounded by empty bush, a short walk and round a corner appears a massive crag bristling with overhangs. It’s Snort’s crag, he’s developed it and points the guys at the projects. Turnbull thugs out an E5 and Bransby a hard E6. Palmer makes quick second ascents. Me and Jim walk round another corner and find an untouched crag and bag its best lines. And then breakfast at John Rudd’s farm. Just another day in Africa.

This was day seven and the exchange was already shaping up into one of the best climbing trips any of us had ever had. The itinerary had taken us from Cape Town’s Table Mountain via St. Elsies peak to the stunning mountain valley of Du Toits Kloof. Here options included big, big routes on the steep valley walls, cragging on the hot red sandstone of Hellfire or, for the connoisseur, Snort’s crag Karbonaatjes Kraal with its loose rock and fine breakfasts. From Du Toits we would head for Montagu, out in the semi desert of the Karoo, probably the Cape’s most developed sport climbing area but also home to some of its finest trad test pieces. The final leg of the trip was to take us into the Cedarberg Wilderness Area and to Tafelburg and Wolfberg, two big hill top crags that can only be described as world class.

So there we were, twelve of us, including hangers on, trundling around the country in a trusty hired Combie followed by anything up to fifteen fired-up South Africans keen to show us just how good their climbing was.

There are a lot of things that have to come together to make a trip like this one work, and it’s a credit to the South African hosts that this one was so much fun and yet so effective. Ed February was the main man, he’d got the thing off the ground and did most of the worrying. He did however cunningly delegate the day to day organisation to the team. Jeremy Samson and Snort (Charles Edelstein but Snort is so much more appropriate) took Du Toits Kloof, Mary Jenner got Montagu, Tinie Versfeld looked after Tafleburg and Leonard Rust did Wolfeberg. This approach gave each leg a distinctive flavour. Du Toits Kloof combined a charming randomness with a certain brutality. Montague was civilised and well ordered, Tafleberg precisely organised and carefully conducted and Wolfberg had a sociable spontaneity to it.

Each venue did however have two things in common, extreme cold and a philosophy of ‘no rest for the wicked’ and after the fun of the South Africans visit to the UK the ‘wicked’ meant the British team. The relay approach used by our hosts meant that fresh climbers would arrive every couple of days, keen and fired-up, whilst the weary would return to Cape Town. Sadly for the Brits there was no such respite. Each day began at six, usually with Jeremy and Snort shouting at each other and picking their victims for the day “Who’s for Apollo, it’s only a two hour walk in, fifteen pitches, I don’t know the way off but I’m sure we’ll figure it out ah! Robbins you’re with me, Bransby you’re with Jeremy” and then Glenda would quietly say “Could I come too?” and they’d all disappear off and whoever was left would emerge shame faced and convince themselves that some valley cragging was a fine idea.

Actually it wasn’t always like that, but it does illustrate one of the surprises of the trip and that is the scale of some of the South African crags. Du Toits Kloof wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Dolomites and Table Mountain offered simply stunning exposure. The other surprise was just how easy it was to find new routes (with some local guidance), and once we’d got going new lines were climbed every day, with Jim Graham and Dave Turnbull vying to see who could bag the most. For some this on sight new routing business was old hat, but for others it was a new and exciting experience

“Bloody ‘ell that was brilliant, I didn’t think it would go but ‘olds just kept appearing and I kept going up. Can we do another one?” so said Debbie Birch topping out on her first new route, an improbable looking E1 (High Inflation, Bad Kloof, Montagu) and for a few it was an experience almost forgotten.

“God I’m wasted, one of the best days I’ve had in years, it’s five years since I had a day like that” confessed Ed after accompanying Turnbull and Versfeld on a battling ascent of a new five pitch E5 (Revenge of the Natives, Lost World, Montagu).

The trip culminated in the Cedarberg and it was here that the rock, the climbing and the atmosphere epitomised what the trip was all about. The drive from Montague to the Cedarberg had been a disturbing one taking place as it did in torrential rain and under severe time pressure (permits had to be collected). The passengers of the Combie demonstrated depressingly little faith in their stalwart driver, and made regular efforts to escape whist mouthing impractical threats. Meanwhile the Combie aquaplaned its way along wet clay roads bound for Tafleburg and tested automotive adhesion to its very limits.

Arriving in the continuing rain we were faced with the prospect of a three hour uphill walk to a cave at the crag base. Fortunately a store of beer had been laid in, and soon a suitably fortified team headed off into the bush and the surreal sandstone world of the Cedarberg. We arrived in the fading light and settled down in a massive cave described by Tinie as South Africa’s best seduction spot. Sadly had he brought some innocent young thing up this time, he would have been on something of a loser as the rain persisted into the morning, the crag remained hidden and those trusty souls who had equipped themselves with ultra light pits slowly began to freeze.

This however did not blunt the team spirit and in the morning some hearty banter was followed by a foray out and up a gully that Tinie assured us would be sheltered. Indeed it was, and here we saw one of the trip’s best ascents with Ken onsighting a wet and hard 25 (E5 6a) in the freezing rain, allegedly as a warm up. Birkett also weighed in with a new short and powerful 25/6 (E6 6b), Ben and Peter tried something far too hard, Turnbull did some hideous chimney and Jim sat in a spaceship (so he claimed). Eventually the cold and rain drove us back to the cave and to the store of fine Cape wine that had been bravely lugged up. As we drank, Turnbull amused himself by making the South Africans sing the new National Anthem and Geoff led a spirited rendition of ‘Leaving on a jet plane’. Given the poor weather, a few of us speculated what would happen if we became trapped and ran out of food and asked who would survive. The sight of Turnbull prowling around, knuckles scraping the ground like some huge hungry silverback, gave us our answer, whilst Ben and Peter were told that they would be first in the pot.

To our surprise the next day dawned stunningly clear and the team scampered out into the sun. The crag now revealed itself - sitting atop the area’s highest hill, up to 200m high and miles long the potential is massive and the team quickly got stuck in. Turnbull and Leonard grabbed a big new E4 (Life in the Freezer). Steve straightened out an E5 and the Bransby and Birkett show put up an E5 that everyone had thought would be E7. Everyone else did existing megaclassics, often with Nick hanging on a rope nearby, and scoped out lines for the next day. Sadly such plans were not to be, and in the morning the rain returned with a vengeance and we opted to escape downward and head for Wolfberg.

Arrival at Wolfberg was accompanied by a deluge of freezing rain. A camping plan was quickly abandoned and a rather spacious hut rented. This had the advantage of two kitchens and the vegetarians and meat eaters quickly separated. An hour later it was interesting to observe the state of play. Whilst the veggies had prepared a hearty, if protein free, meal and were now onto coffee and dessert the meat eaters had progressed no further than building a big fire, opening many bottles of wine and listening to improbable stories from that bar room sage Mr. Birkett. I’m sure a sociologist would have come to some interesting conclusions. Anyway, eventually some child labour was employed, a chilli was cooked and a fine long night was had.

An untroubled sleep was brought to an abrupt end by Jeremy, who at six sharp went from room to room declaring “It’s freezing outside, it’s been snowing and so there’s no need for anyone to get up” Why he needed to wake us up to tell us that we didn’t have to wake up, was beyond me but I‘m sure it made sense to him. The freezing conditions didn’t discourage Snort and Tony Dick who appeared a few minutes later looking for victims. Young Peter was dragged from his pit and Turnbull, being rather dim, volunteered for duty and off they went bound for the legendary Celestial Journey. The rest of us malingered over brews and slowly, two by two, headed out into the fridge. Wolfberg is another hill top crag and this day it looked unbelievable with the sky the clearest blue and the red sandstone dusted with snow.

The day was stunningly cold with the air temperature below freezing and a stiff breeze blowing, it felt as if the heat was being sucked from the body. In these conditions everyone struggled and by the afternoon most had either headed down or were cowering in sheltered sunny spots. But Peter had other ideas and pulled off the day’s best ascent with a bold lead of what became known as Peter’s Arete (right arete of The Robot E4/5 6a) which also gave us onlookers the pleasure of watching a frozen Snort trying to second the thing. As evening approached the air warmed slightly and Bransby and Mark made a ten minute solo of Energy Crisis (as featured in The Face) and Myers climbed till the sun set.

Back at the base we moved into tents and a major Braai was cranked up. Snort kept us supplied with the finest of wines and the meatiest of Boerwurst and we went to bed fingers crossed for the ‘morrow. The day was indeed warmer and at times crept above freezing. The team went for the crag classics, and tried to move fast, whilst I discovered a whole host of easy lines that no one had bothered to climb before and actually managed to get up a few of them. That evening was to be our last ‘official’ night outside Cape Town and Nicki cooked up an awesome curry. Later a major posse of South Africans, including the legendary Andy de Klerk, turned up for the beers. In the morning everyone rushed up to the crag for a flurry of routeing and then back to Cape Town for a Braai at Snort’s mansion and many a tearful farewell. With that the meet was over.

Well officially anyway, almost everyone stayed on (in Glenda’s case for two months) and masses more climbing was done. South Africa is a country with such huge potential that on this trip we only scratched the surface, but I reckon most of us will be back (Birkett will be there as you read this). So everyone had a great time but did the exchange achieve the objectives? A big ‘yes’ on that, adventure climbing is firmly back on the agenda of the younger activists and many of the old boys found their interest rekindled. On the Access front the BMC has offered the MCofSA all possible support and advice as they address the complex issues that face them. I don’t think Southern Africa has seen the last of the Brits.

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