Head in the Clouds: The Amphitheatre Ascension

I've just watched the final export of a nature documentary I directed a year ago. It's called Journey of a Waterdrop, and features the meandering story of a fictional river from the Drakensberg Mountains to the coast of KZN. I began to nostalgically thumb through the pictures I took on the trip and decided I should chronicle the adventure. I'm going to split it up into three parts, starting with this one: the ascension of the Drakensberg Amphitheatre.

The famous view of the amphitheatre above the Tugela River, supplied by Wikipedia. I did take one here myself, but the river was too low to supply the same punch as this pic!

Our destination was somewhere atop this dramatic beast. It's about 5 kilometres wide and reaches up more than 1,8 kilometres from where the above photograph was taken. Most importantly, it's the source of the Tugela River.

It's a whole lot easier to get to the top of this mountain than it looks, since you drive up three quarters of the vertical distance. But to get there, you need to drive around the back of the mountains and climb up from the far side, via a road called Withieshoek. It's a bit of a drive from the Tugela River side, so we got started pretty early in the morning.

Our access point was around "The Sentinel": a large buttress that towers above the rolling hills and valleys. There's a parking lot there where you can leave your car while you head up the mountain, it's about 5km from the top. It begins with a long, slowly climbing path before doubling back into a zig-zag pattern that gains altitude under the Sentinal Peak. We began along this path (carrying all of our filming gear) and enjoyed the hike in the wintery sun.

The path up to the 'zig-zags'. A few pit stops were needed to shift our heavy packs around. You can see my homie and camera-op, Collen, posing with our guide, Gerhard, under the Sentinel.

Under the Sentinel, we explored a lookout that peaked out to the other side, exposing the "Devil's Tooth" and the buttresses on either side of it. A good place to pose! The view over the other side was becoming more impressive as we gained altitude.

Weaving back and forth can give you the feeling you're going nowhere on the zig-zags, at least there's the escalating view to track your progress!

We arrived at our base around midday. It was Sentinels Cave, big enough to sleep the six of us and opening up onto a spectacular view. On arrival we realised we'd left the pan-handle of our tripod at the car. I was ready to rock-paper-scissors with Collen for who would go back to retrieve it, when one of the porters volunteered. He said he didn't mind going back since he'd left his weed at the bottom and wasn't prepared for two cold nights on the mountain without that.

Top pic: Gerhard showing off our living quarters. Bottom pic: the vista from the "patio".

Happy to have the drama of the pan-handle sorted, we got settled and decided to scout our set for the next two days. We decided to try an alternative route up, The Gully, which turned out to be a hefty hike up the back of Sentinal Peak along a very steep, long stretch of rockfall. We popped out on a grassy hill well above the Tugela Falls and took in the heights we'd reached. We picked our way down the slope until we reached the little rocky stream that fed the falls, and began to follow it back across the top of the mountain. It had taken us a lot longer than expected to reach the summit, and by the time we'd looped back around over the plateau and reached the infamous chain ladders, the sun was setting.

The pic directly above is the view from the top of the chain ladders. It was a lot darker than it looks here. This shot was a long exposure. I'm a bit shit-scared of heights when it comes to trusting ropes and ladders so it's just as well it was too dark to see the bottom.

Back at the cave, we cooked up some dinner and agreed we needed a base closer to the summit. Our guide suggested a small cottage at the top, and we decided that first thing the next day, we'd head up to set up at the new spot. We climbed into our thermal-fleeced sleeping bags and I fell asleep to a chorus of snoring and absolutely no other sound whatsoever.

Gerhard blurs in the long exposure, busy preparing our pasta dinner for the evening. If the cave looks cold and uncomfortable for sleeping, that's because it is.

We started at sunrise and began the great relocation. A carpet of fog hung below us and the mountainous view we'd seen the previous day was completely submerged under its mysterious canopy. The chain ladders proved to be a hair-raising experience now that we were laden with a few hundred kilograms of awkwardly-shaped film equipment between us.

Some morning vistas and Collen reaching the top of the chain ladders, heaving the gear up with him.

Once we'd reached the top of the ladders, we crossed the expansive plateau until we met up with the rocky riverbed: the source of the mighty Tugela! Up above the falls, it was hardly a trickle. In the dead of winter the river was flowing at its lowest, and sometimes was barely visible beneath the boulders. It was hard to imagine this was the same fat, mighty Tugela one can see at the coast, once it's tumbled hundreds of kilometres through the interior.

At the source and at the sea. The volume that the Tugela collects on its journey to the coast is amazing. The bottom picture was taken near the Tugela mouth, while I was hunting for the infamous "Ultimatum Tree" in KZN, during a research trip for the documentary series 'Shoreline' in 2012.

We spent the morning documenting the amazing views, admiring the clouds gliding below the impressive peaks. The most famous of these, was the Devils Tooth and its 'Toothpick' which towers high above the Royal Natal National Park that spreads out from the foot of the mountain.

I forced Collen off his camera so I could get a few hero shots myself...

Here's a breakdown I made of the impressive peaks we were gazing out over.

We spent the rest of the day filming the little river course up until it dribbled down the vertical precipice. We explored the plateau and I ticked two lifers off my bird list: the Drakensberg Rock Jumper and the Bearded Vulture. Had we been in a totally shitty place, this alone would have made it a day well spent. We were lucky enough to be literally, in the heavens, so it was a killer day all-in-all.

In the dry winter, Tugela Falls is not in its full splendour. It's still a dizzying experience peering over the edge though. Also in this compilation: a Drakensberg Rock-Jumper and some views of the plateau (in the bottom pic, you can see the Tugela snaking towards its freefall.

We moved to our new lodgings in the early evening. It's referred to as the "Tugela Falls Hut' on google maps. The engraving (under the red graffiti) on the lintel shows it was built in April 1930 as a mountain hut, presumably for rangers. It had clearly been used many times by other hikers, herders and whoever else found themselves 3030 metres above sea level and needing a place to rest their head.

It was significantly more charming on the outside than it was on the inside. It was made up of a main room with a fireplace (where we stored our gear) and then two rooms coming off on either side of it. One of them was full of human waste, so we camped on the other side of the hut.

The walls were stained black from fires. There were memorial messages left for those who had died up here and free advice/rules of house left by previous visitors, on keeping dry and clean.

When the sun set, it spewed a mishmash of pink and orange across the sky. The temperature plummeted very quickly but I stayed out in the cold, watching the dying of the light.

Colourshow.

I went to bed with 5 layers on my body, inside a thermal sock that slid into my sleeping bag, and I was still cold. Regardless, I managed to drift off to sleep and catch a few Z's. That is, until I was woken by Collen, who was screeching in the dead of the night. I swung around trying to find my torch.

I snapped it on to see Collen, on his feet, kicking out into the darkness around him. As it turned out, he'd awoken to four or five large rats scampering over his body, while their friends tucked into our food supplies.

I didn't see the rats, let alone get a photo of them. But if you believe Collen's description they looked a little bit like this ^^^

The unopened juice box I'd left next to my sleeping place had been nibbled through, and had leaked out to form a trickle, which had promptly frozen in its place. We all tried to forget about the late night visitors and sub-freezing temperatures and went back to sleep.

We woke up early to catch the sunrise. The temperatures had dropped to -9°C b y the time the sun rose. I sat, huddled up, watching my time-lapse click away at the incredible sight unfolding in front of me.

My cellphone couldn't handle the latitude of light but it did capture the shapes of the eerie mountaintops below us nicely.

Once the sun had risen, the effect of the cold night became evident. The surface of the trickling river had frozen over completely. We spent the rest of the morning filming the water slowly melt back to its liquid form so it could plummet over the edge of the mountain.

A few icy textures in the morning sun.

This is an actual clip we shot that was posted onto giphy and shared by the commissioner of the documentary: the Smithsonian.

I was amazed to find some creatures living under the ice. Maluti Toad tadpoles swam in the freezing water without so much as a sniffle, while I lost all feeling in my hands trying to get shots of them with the underwater camera.

The Panasonic GH4 camera in its underwater housing felt like it weighed 100kgs under that water. My knuckles nearly froze wrapped around its grips trying to get the shots.

We had to leave the top by 3PM so we didn't have to walk back to the car in the dark. We descended the path in a much shorter time than it took us to get up. We hiked in silence as we soaked up the views one last time before climbing back into our bakkie and shuttling off into the night.

The expanse below disappears into the haze of the day.

We spent the next two days shooting around the Royal Natal National Park filming the Tugela Gorge and the river below the mountain. It was all wonderful stuff, but none of it quite compared to the grand ascent to the top of the worlds second highest waterfall.

It's definitely worth spending a few days on this trip. I'm even glad we did it in the dead of winter. Visit www.peakhigh.co.za if you're looking for great guides or any info on the Hikes and Climbs of the Drakensberg. See if you can't spend a few days with your head in the clouds like we did! :)

#blogpost #experience #wildlife #travel