ROOIKAPPIE EN DIE DRIE JAKKALASE

The race : Ystervark
Date : 12 March 2010
Team : Bloed en OMO
Lowinda “Rooikappie” Jaquire
Jan “Bruin-jakkalaas” Bezuidenhout
Nico “Rooi-jakkalaas” Labuschagne
Abel“Grys-jakkalaas” van der Merwe

It wasn’t necessary to throw dollosse or read the entrails of a goat or gaze at the absent moon to know that that the omens were no good.

Firstly, two novices in the team could only mean unnecessary enthusiasm.

Then Rooi-jakkalaas pitches up with a swollen, glow-in-the-dark ET like forefinger. It had apparently been sucked into a lathe when he tried to polish a rod with a length of emery paper.

During pre-race kit inspection -the part where I check the other’s food and throw out excess baggage so they have space for the team’s safety equipment – I find some East Rand jewellery - chrome plated knuckle-duster and motorbike chain set –in Rooi-jakkalaas’s bag.

Clinton said to bring protection (peper spray actually) he explains at which Bruin-jakallaas tries to hide a pack of condoms while muttering to himself - I thought it was the other kind. I suddenly understand what the bottle of Robertson’s Black Pepper in Rooikaapie’s picnic basket is for.

After much dallying in the cold the race starts. As usual Bloed en OMO are caught off guard with the Le Mans type start. But, its not long before we catch the herd and then use our superior navigation skill (based on living in the area) to slowly move up to 5th overall whilst others stop to consult their maps.

But age and lack of horsepower counts and we slip back a few places on the way to TA2 – which is in a totally unfamiliar area.

If this report appears to focus on the coming stage only, it is for a good reason.

This is were we, and many other teams, came unstuck. On paper it’s a short excursion on foot back to where we started via CP6, CP7 and CP8 for a cliff jump into a pool at Nkwe before returning to the bikes via CP9 and CP10. An area of hardly more than one square kilometre in extent.

We eventually return to our bikes after close on five hours, in a haggard and bleeding state, covered in blackjacks and burrs, and with low blood sugar levels.

CP6 and CP7 are found with minimal fuss. CP8 is a disaster. We join several other teams scrambling over boulders and through dense hillside vegetation before we decide we are too far north – which was indeed so. Then we join up with several new teams, all to no avail. An hour is lost and we decide to look for it on the way back.

We leave Nkwe just after midnight, after Rooikappie and Bruin-jakkalaas do the 8m (?) cliff jump without hesitation, heading up the river on its western bank. In theory it being a simple case of walking until we find CP9 at the confluence of two streams. Nobody said anything about the steep sided canyon that this little river had carved for itself. Or about the dense wattles and other fauna that forced us further and further from the river. Then we strike a road which takes us, in a suddenly merry mood, back to some picnic spots near the stream.

The stream is covered in dense, very dense, vegetation. A Swazi Extreme railway line déjà vu type vegetation. Two pieces of faded bunting convince us to plunge into bush. First downstream then upstream. Soon we are joined by several other teams. The silence is broken by breaking twigs, branches and tempers.

A herd of irritated rhino would hardly have done more damage to the ecology.

How dense was it? Well if the French had had this little stream instead of the Maginot Line for protection the Panzer Korps would have been held up long enough for our Adolph to have had time to reconsider whether he really wanted to take on the world.

So we retreat and discover CP9 in completely the wrong place - on a tree in the picnic area. All that remains is a short trot to CP10, which we know is also CP7. As we watch the other teams head SE back into the forest there is a flash of brilliance and we track back to a side-road that heads south, skirting the thicket. And it does – for a short while. Then we are into the long grass, polluted by large patches of black jacks and a variety of other nasty burrs and things. And its all sopping wet with dew.

The only good thing is to hear the other teams, way back on our left, breaking paths along the river. But, we keeping getting pushed S and we should heading SE. So its back into the wattles and doringdraad. There’s probably more rusted doringdraad in those woods than at Delville Wood.

The map indicates several strings of green balls – somewhat like Bennie Boekwurm in appearance – which I do my best to follow on the assumption that they signify lanes of cultivated trees which must surely be accompanied by picturesque country lanes. All I find is the exact opposite.

It is only the following day that I realise that the map symbology was indicating dense and wild riverine vegetation.

As the hours pass I think about the words of the poet Robert Frost – he must surely have been an AR navigator :
The woods are long and dark and deep
but I have far to go before I sleep
and promises to keep

The lie of the land, which I can hardly see anyway, does not fit the map. Even the river defies the map and compass. Thoughts of retiring from AR are beaten off while I keep pushing ahead instinctively, believing that Bruin-jakkalaas and Rooi-jakkalaas will look after Rooikappie. But it’s not necessary. She matches us step by step.

While we worry about never finding our bikes again we do not see, much less enjoy, the pre-dawn glow. At crack of dawn we step into the open. As we stop to switch off torches we look up, straight into the jaws of CP10.

A promise has been kept. How I shall never know. All of sudden everything falls into place and the world is friendly again.

Rooi-jakkalaas says what we were all thinking : I thought our navigator was lost.

We head halfway back to CP8 before deciding its better to finish the rest of the race. So its back to TA2, then a quick cycle to TA3 for some fun on the MTB obstacle course. Rooi-jakkalaas entertains everyone by going over his handlebars.

A long hike is next. Then we strike it lucky. Rooikappie remembers she has to be at a wedding at two. We pretend to be disappointed about having to “short course” and agree that she needs time for the scars on her shins to heal. So we short cut to the finish and a long sleep.

Thanks Clinton and team. This was a well thought out and executed race. It shall long be remembered. Indeed I regularly eyeball the bluff above Inkwe as I drive past and can’t believe we had so much difficulty with CP8.