Rustic Mountain Retreat


We feasted as rain played on the corrugated roof, coffee percolated on the wood-burning stove, and storm lanterns flickered dim light over the table.

Dry socks: something so simple, yet so pleasing. Walking the last couple kilometers to the our rustic mountain retreat at Simonskloof soaked my boots through and made them heavy with water. My feet turned white, pickled, and numb. I didn’t give it too much mind though because everything was soaked through, cold, and numb.

But we had arrived at shelter, a place to dry our things by a fire, dry ourselves, and sleep cozy for a night. We shared a great dinner with some wine, talked about the hike to arrive here (most of us went silent  walking in the worst of the weather, our attention on the path to shelter, our mind already imagining its warmth), and looked at the maps leading us away from here.

Arriving here also meant the end of the Hex Valley High Traverse and the beginning of the Langeberg High Ridge Line, the last section for my companions walking along the Rim of Africa.

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