Sentinel Peak, Angus Leppan route

Miki was feeling much better in the morning and our fears of malaria were evaporated by the rising sun. All the same, he wanted to get to Johannesburg and not climb the Sentinel. We agreed that he would take us to Durban and drive to Joburg the next day. So we took off toward the Indian Ocean again. As we arrived into the city, we quickly exited the first backpackers we randomly investigated. The owner was more eager to brag about nasty wounds in her soles than to show the rooms. Eventually we found ourselves in Happy Hippo which was big, cozy and imaginatively decorated. Beds in a dorm cost about 12 euros per person.

Taking a stroll on the beach in Durban

The original plan was to go diving with Sharks at Alley Wall; a very special spot for this kind of activity, but Joonas didn’t seem too eager after all and I was more interested in the mountains anyway. So we quickly abandoned the original plan and drove to the airport to rent another car. We were forced to surrender one of our team to the Babylonia (That’s what we called normal life) as Miki departed to Johannesburg. After enjoying a 5 second adrenaline rush at the Big Rush stadium swing, I and Joonas were also eager to leave the chaos of the city behind.

Joonas preparing to leap down

Conquering Sentinel peak was still in our minds and we decided to return to the Drakensberg. After getting some info from a climber at Bush and Buntu outdoor shop in Pietermaritzburg we drove to the border of Lesotho where the Mountain was located. Apparently a government owned cabin with bunk beds was located at Sentinel car park. “The road in in very bad condition!” – said a woman at the reception of a game lodge just before the road to Sentinel car park. It was already dark, but our options were limited. We decided to give our Datsun Go a challenge.

Stopped for some climbing action at Howick falls.
The route "Stage fright 6a" is on the red face just left from the falls

With me driving and Joonas checking our ground clearance with a flash light we slowly made our way toward the Mountain. Sharp rocks were sticking out everywhere and deep grooves made by rain water scarred the dirt road. We would have surely walked faster than we progressed on the first parts of the road. Constantly afraid of rocks screeching the bottom I drove in the darkness. The road was seven kilometres long and we only had to trust the words of ms. reception lady. “The beginning is the worst!” – echoed in my ears as I almost lost my hope getting stuck on a hill while avoiding head sized boulders. “We are not going back after making it this far” – I had to tell myself. After a deep sigh and some dodgy manoeuvres on the limits of our Datsun, we made it up. The road got slightly better and we were so relieved to find the yellow brick road at the end.

The cabin was very basic but we were happy to sleep in real beds instead of tents. The guards welcomed us in candle light and we quickly headed to bed. The peaceful atmosphere was nearing perfection as our dozing off was interrupted by two SUV:s blasting to the car park. Eager chatter, laughter and flashlights broke the silence. “Hello! How many are you here? I’ve got a bunch of nine teenagers and we’d like to stay the night” He was a hiking guide and they were on some kind of a field trip! We were too polite to show our disappointment as the youngsters rushed into the cabin. Luckily they were very well behaved and crawled into their own sleeping bags in a matter of minutes. It was a peaceful night after all.

Joonas cooking some veg stew at the Sentinel hut

The idea was to climb the mountain by a classic route called Angus Leppan. 6 pitches long and traditionally protected. It was graded something like 5b (the old grading system was pretty cryptic) but climbers we had talked to had told horror stories of loose rock and heavy exposure. A fistful of grass was told to be a good hold and an internet forum said “I wouldn’t bother taking gear. It’s mostly useless anyway” We weren’t sure what to expect.

A topo sketch of Angus Leppan route

The weather report was all stormy winds for the next day so we spent that one scouting our approach and hiking around the area. (A lesson learned from Eagle Mountain.) A good warm-up of 1000 vertical meters and 6 hours. We were wondering if the car park was always so busy during weekends, but the reason was revealed to us as we got talking to other hikers. Some crazy South Africans were having a wedding up on the plateau!

Preparing fot a wedding at 2800 something meters

The next morning we woke up at 5 am. It was still pitch black outside as we prepared our candle lit breakfast. The clouds were below us in the valley as we started our hike. The rough rectangular shape of Sentinel peak was painted orange by the sun as we made our way forward. The walk was just about one hour to the gully we needed to scramble to the base. Panting and sweating with the Sentinel Gendarme (whatever that is) on the left and the face of Sentinel peak on the right we made our way up. After a litre of sweat and a funky little solo climb we were nearing the saddle. The sun had been hidden during our safe approach and wind was non-existent. As we reached the highest point and the base of the climb, the environment suddenly felt a lot more hostile.

Sentinel peak. The route is on the shadowed corner on the right.

Joonas treading up the gully

The wind slapped our faces and the sun momentarily blinded us. After re-organizing our senses, we could see the clouds below us and the sun rising, blasting its rays straight onto the saddle. This was where we needed to start climbing. We geared and turned our gazes on the face of the Sentinel.

After figuring out that grass is truly a stable handhold and accepting the non-existence of gear placements, the first two pitches were pretty easy. Having to spend little time placing protection (We got a total of four pieces in the first two pitches!) our progress was fast and efficient.

Joonas enjoying the views

The meaning of exposure was carved into my frontal cortex as I started the climb on pitch three. A 20 meter traverse along a 20 cm ledge with a 500 meter drop below me. Clouds were still way below us and I could see people like ants hiking on the path we had taken the day before. With just one cam behind me, I could only hope the footholds were not Drakensberg quality. The face instead had “Made in Drakensberg” written all over it, as everything I touched crumbled off. Taking a step down to a 5 cm ledge I kept my nerves and breathed deep. Cross stepping with my right foot onto a stance and taking a deep sigh, I wiggled the flake on my right. I moved an inch or so, but I still decided to put a cam behind it. Psychological gear placement at its best.

I made my way up to the anchor and was happy to find bolts here too. The next pitch was supposed to be the classic scary airy traverse and Joonas was going for the lead. The internet guide told us of a single possible cam placement somewhere along the 10 meter traverse. Joonas decided to ignore that too as he ballet danced along the ledge to a small ridge. “Im attached to a bolted anchor! Nothing to worry about!” Good nerves I say. Climbing up the ridge, he found an old piton and backed it up with some cams to belay me up.

Clouds were racing up along the face of the mountain right beside us. We were hoping to reach the top before visibility would plummet down to zero. In the end, the technical execution of the climb was so casual that we made our way up quickly and didn’t have to worry. We were also very much enjoying the stomach gripping exposure and would have gladly climbed some extra pitches of this blissful mountain.

Having lunch with grand views just before the final pitch, we contemplated on the route. It’s funny how skills and experience enable you to enjoy such a potentially dangerous place. Climbing an almost vertical rock face up into the unknown without knowing exactly what you will find. With unwavering trust in your abilities, partner and gear, all that’s left is pure joy of discovery. An awe of having the possibility to come to such a place. This is adventure trad climbing at its best!

We reached the summit in about three hours from start of pitch one. The views were blocked by clouds now but the route had been extremely pleasant. Emphasis on the extreme. I smoked a victory cigar which Joonas refused of and we wrote our names and greetings to the summit log book.

The way down was by the standard route of Sentinel which was mostly scrambling or walking. We had scouted the descent during the previous day and saw that an abseil was inevitable at the end. We reached the spot that seemed best suited for a rappel and Joonas was just thinking out loud about how nice it would be to find a fixed anchor. And there it was. A large iron peg with a ring on it. Haha! Everything seemed a bit too easy. Or maybe we had learned our lessons.

The climb was a total success and all our fears of getting into trouble were obliterated. We walked back to the car park and packed our car for the exciting dirt road. We were to make our way four hours south to Bulwer to get one step closer to another dream. To be able to fly off the mountain rather than climbing down. We were about to have some air beneath us again!

The Dragons Challenge

We drove all the way to the Drakensberg the same day we left Eagle Mountain. A while ago Miki had still been in the belief that it’s a single mountain. “Which Drakensberg are we climbing guys??” – He had messaged us when he was still in Oman.

The Drakensberg is a huge area and mountain range. We were quite surprised of the views as we drove over a small hill and the mountains popped into view. We were able to see almost the whole Drakensberg range from the road. From looking at pictures I could even name some of the peaks. Also our objective, Sentinel peak, was looming in the distance

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We stopped for grocery shopping in Winterton and had some carrot cake in a café trying to sort out our plans. We definitely wanted to climb the Sentinel. It had been our only certain goal of the trip. We were also feeling very tired of being on the move all the time and wanted some rest.

We had heard about Rainbow Gorge from Darren in Tofo and decided to make way to a camp site in Didima for the night. From there we could do an easy day hike into the Gorge. As we drove in between the mountains, the dry colours of brown and yellow sand faded as green took over. We crossed many streams at which the locals were bathing and washing their cars.

Didima camp had a big main building with a restaurant and souvenir shop. Accommodation was available in thatched roof chalets, but we chose the tents. We decided to take a break and chill at the pool area as the sun set behind the Drakensberg mountains. Some dinner in the restaurant (lemon butter marinated trout with oven baked potatoes for seven euros) before setting up camp was all we needed to call it a day.

The sun setting behind Cathedral peak

After breakfast we felt energised again and were anxious to make plans for the day. Hiking maps were available at the souvenir shop and the lady there said she had done all the hikes in the area. Apparently the only way to get back from Rainbow Gorge was to back track the same way. “Don’t come back before you’ve climbed a chain ladder and seen a large rock lodged between the canyon walls” – she told us.

Morning broke warm and sunny. We crossed grassy plains and magnificent rock faces as we walked into the Gorge. Apparently the rock was of poor quality considering climbing activities but I still could not stop imagining doing first ascents on the pristine lime stone cliffs. After enjoying lunch at a beautiful waterfall and taking some awesome #nakedinnature – photos, we walked deeper into the Gorge. Baboons yelled after us and spider webs were suspended above the path. We were immersed in constant sounds of insects and the flowing water as we made our way through the vegetation.

Lunchbreak

We found the chain ladder, but the path ended long before we got to the rock between the cliffs. It would have been a boring trip to walk back so we decided to see how deep into the Gorge it was possible to delve. The map said the river would cross another path further upstream and we could follow that back to camp. We crossed pools chest deep and crawled through small cracks between rocks in our mission to find a route.

Joonas trying to find the way forward

Miki and Style

The canyon got narrower and narrower and the cliffs higher and higher on either side. Most of the time we were forced to pack our gear in backpacks and wade naked in the chilly mountain water to get further into the mysterious canyon. We found another chain ladder and another big rock between the cliffs as we went on.

Special place to boulder if it was dry :D

A roaring sound of a waterfall could be heard around the corner as we continued. We had to fear the worst. The way was blocked. Water rushed down the sides of a huge slippery rock face we couldn’t climb over, crawl under or pass by. We had to turn around and find a way to climb out of the canyon.

At first it seemed impossible as the rock was slimy from algae and the ground too steep to climb. Climbing gear wouldn’t have changed a thing. I found a steep slope to a rocky ledge that could possibly be traversed to climb out. Holding tight on the reins of my nerves I scrambled up and crossed the sloping traverse about 10 meters above the river. “There might be a way out here” – I yelled to Miki and Joonas.

Miki on the slope traverse

They followed as I had to grab a tree to wiggle up after the traverse. Between the bushes I could see some light and hope of getting up tickled my stomach. We scrambled through fighting the thorns and spider webs. After a final push the sun lay her gentle gaze on our faces as we got above the trees. We made our way onto a gentler grassy slope and the view opened showing a way up to the ridge.

Joonas on the final push from the canyon

We still had to scramble up some hundreds of meters, climb a small rock face and walk for a half hour, but in the end we found the contour path that would take us back to camp. We were excited to have found an alternate route. We also had the opportunity to walk via Thyme hill from which we could see the whole valley and awesome scenery of the Drakensberg area.

Hiking towards Thyme hill

Folke West and a Taleban soldier

We ran down from the hill as the sun set behind the mountains. Our hike had taken a full 8 hours and hunger growled in our stomachs.

During dinner Miki revealed to us that he had been feeling ill for a couple of days already. We all feared the worst as he might have caught malaria from Tofo. He said he would not want to take risks climbing the Sentinel and it would be best to head to Johannesburg for his flight back to Oman. It was Tuesday evening and his flight was on Friday. Morning would tell us more but Sentinel peak would probably have to wait.

Los Grandes Cojones

Eagle mountain

If you are like me you can relate to this feeling. As we drive south from Johannesburg with the moon rising from the east, the landscape starts to change. All of you who enjoy some kind of sport involving altitude changes, know the feeling. An exhilarating tickle in your chest as you look the hill sides become vertical and rock pillars sprout from the ground. Painted in silver and black by the rising full moon we watch the mountains grow beside us. We find the gate of Eagle mountain game lodge and call the number for opening. Immediately we see zebras, springboks and other animals I haven’t even seen before. Seems like real African savannah. We find the camp site under the mountain and put up our tents. I try to sleep under the stars but I’m forced into the tent by mosquitoes making extra holes on my face.

Morning breaks loose from it’s cage and sends his friend the wind to play with us. We are thankful to it for drying our sleeping bags, wet from mist, but have to curse it later during the climb. Discovering the game ranch has seen better days we have to make our own breakfast in the empty dining hall. The concrete floor has holes in it and spiders inhabit the toilet sinks. Perhaps consequences of the inflation of the South African Rand…

"Fight the feeling"

The approach for our climbing objective is again non-existent.  We park right next to the mountain face and gaze at the rock trying to find our route. It’s called “Fight the feeling” Grade 21 (6b+), 6 pitches long. In our guide book is a photo of “Rave Cave” midway up the route. Obviously we can’t resist the temptation and decide to pack our sleeping bags too.

Miki and Joonas at the start

Hike 15 minutes to the base and Joonas finds the first bolt. The rock type makes us smile. It’s hard and full of weird ball formations and extra cool pockets. Joonas leads up the slabby first pitch, Miki follows and I solo for speed. It’s only a grade 12 (something way below 4+) anyways.

Joonas on pitch one

The next pitch is only 9 meters but we have a fourth member in the party. The wind comes around the corner and starts howling in our ears. We can barely hear Miki when he gets to the belay station. The rock has turned vertical but the climbing is pretty easy with big jugs everywhere. I climb up last and get ready to lead the hardest pitch of the route.

Miki on pitch 2

Midway up the route I manage to mantle up to a slight ledge before seeing the next bolt a few meters to my right. I try to wiggle myself around the corner but can’t find any hand holds. I can feel by backpack pulling me awkwardly and realise I’m going to take a fall. The fall isn’t too bad, but as I feel the jolt of the rope stopping me, my back pack suddenly gets a lot lighter. I look back and see my yellow trad rack bag still falling. In slow motion it thuds on a rock on the ground and bounces onto a bush. “Shit!”

Luckily we’re not going to need the gear for this route. After discussing the options we decide to continue. The wind makes it impossible to communicate and we devise a system of messages with rope tugs. Joonas gets to lead the final pitch up to rave cave and I follow after Miki.

After pitch 4 in the Rave Cave

The cave is totally awesome. With lots of space and magnificent views we take a moment to chill. The wind is also caught behind the corner and leaves us alone for a while. Joonas wants to climb straight up the last two pitches but I’m getting a little stressed about the gear on the ground. We decide to abseil down with Miki, get the gear and climb back up via another route that’s traditionally protected. Protected being an overstatement as we are about to find out.

We abseil down a single 70m rope for two pitches and Joonas releases it from the anchor. The wind starts messing about with us again and the rope gets stuck in the retrieve. Tossing rope coils in the wind is also fun. Seems like gravity has changed as the coil darts straight up and gets stuck above me. We end up repeating two whole pitches and wasting at least two hours in the process.

We find the gear bag in a bush and head for the route called “Legde of renewed hope”. Three pitches of grade 9, 14 and 18. It tops out to the other end of Rave Cave. We solo up the first pitch in sneakers and find a ledge that is supposedly the start of the route. The line is somewhat difficult to distinguish but I gear up and start climbing. I grab the first hold, find a foot and push up. Snap and boom! The hold breaks loose and I topple back onto the ledge. Lucky I wasn’t any higher. A bit surprised by the poor quality of the rock we try to search for the start of the line again but there’s no other possibilities. The grade is only a 14 so “If I’m just careful and find good gear placements it’ll be okay.” So I start climbing again.

The guide book mentions a crack the climb is supposed to follow but there is none. I end up placing about 5 pieces for the whole 35 meter pitch before a final 10 meter runout to the ledge. My hope is everything but renewed although in the end I find relatively good placements for a belay anchor. Miki congratulates me on starting my solo career as he follows up next to me. The next pitch is as bad as the first one involving only one good cam placement which I celebrate midway up back to the Cave. Must have been the worst trad climb I’ve ever done. I even forgot to take photos!

The sky is getting worrying orange and red hues as we finally reach the cave. Joonas has cooked some pasta Napoletana for us and is anxious to get to the top. We gobble the food down our throats and Joonas gets to show off the fruits of his visualisation on the crux overhang. 

Planning the second last pitch

This takes us to the easy face and up to the summit of Mooihoek Mountain. The last rays of sun fade out as Miki practically runs up to the summit. Quick high fives and abseil down to our camp. The rope gets stuck again but we decide to worry about it in the Morning.

Miki racing the sun for the last pitch

Sleeping in the cave is magical but is surely interrupted a few times. Just enough to enjoy the clear moonlit sky and stars. I wake up to see the rope snaking down as if Elrond himself had enchanted it. I get disappointed as Miki tells me Joonas had hiked up to retrieve it. We decide to pack up, abseil down and drive to Harrismith for breakfast. Such a great adventure once again!

Waking up at Rave Cave