I wake to watch the sun rise and listen to a set that my brother has told me to listen to “early in the morning”:
I think about making an omelette - but it just feels a bit too heavy before a long run. So I opt for a bit of the leftover curry. A coffee accompanies me in watching the sun rise.
The sunrise is bold and beautiful. There is a whale in the bay and a mother with her puppies playing around me. I watch her chase the runt of the litter away from feeding, oh how I want to look after this little puppy.
My mind is clear and in a beautiful place. I’m happy to be here alone, grateful to be in such a wonderful area and excited for a run. The air mattress has deflated again in the night, there must be another hole. I’ll make that this evening's challenge again.
I’ve begun peeing on my back car tyre a bit to show the dog that this is my territory - it seems to be working. I also realise that I’m beginning to talk to wild animals using their own sounds. I wonder what crazy things I’m going to be doing in two months time, haha.
I put some effort into packing my bag this time around, I know that this area is far more remote than Mdumbi. I’ve visited Mbotyi once. With my brother last December. We had casually strolled off in the direction of Waterfall bluff, but were ill-prepared and without an abundance of time. This run has been on the back of my mind ever since, and today was the day.
I’ve been trying to keep ever day as much of an adventure as possible. And staying true to my word I hadn’t loaded a GPX file onto my watch that would guide me through the route - I wanted to feel it out. As the crow flies it looked to be about 8km from Mbotyi to Waterfall Bluff, I’ve been adding 20% onto that and rounding up and finding it quite accurate for Transkei coastal runs. So I’m looking at roughly 20km there and back. On paper that is a four-ish hour run, and I begin thinking about maybe making it longer when I get there by going a bit further along the coast after reaching the waterfall - looking to make it more of an adventure. But - oh my - I didn’t need to add anything onto the run and it turned into a huge adventure.
It begins in familiar territory; traversing a beautiful beach with small streams flowing into the ocean. It’s pretty easy going and I cover quite a lot of distance quickly.
After climbing the hill that is on the right of the photo above I once again remember running this section last year. It’s after about twenty more minutes that I break out into new territory. Quite soon after that I’m sanding at the edge of this enormous gorge with a river at the bottom that is flowing into the ocean. I stop for a snack and assess my options.
All rivers are crossable if you head back inland. Yet far below me, on the opposite back of the river I spot a little trail snaking off in the direction that I’m heading. It looks like a faint fisherman’s trail, so I was on the fence. Although some of the photos that I’d seen of Waterfall Bluff were taken from ocean level so I decided to give it a shot.
There was somewhat of a path/scramble leading down to the river. It turned out to be easier than expected. I cross the trickle of a river and begin traversing the fisherman’s trail, which quickly disappears and is replaced by broken rocks lining the coast with a few more solid shelfs protruding into the waves.
Common sense kicks in and I kind of realise that this is not where I should be going. It’s a slow and careful clammer over the rocks, definitely not something that people do with big hiking backpacks. I feel very comfortable in this terrain though, it reminds me of the rocks around Buffels Bay. I am also luckily quite dialled in with the tides and I know that low is only after lunch which means that I’m not at risk of the path disappearing. The swell is small but I know that there was a longer period forecast - which has the tendency to bring a couple larger rogue waves rather randomly. So I’m sure to keep half an eye on the sea.
Soon after that I come across a small waterfall flowing straight onto my “path” and trickling into the ocean. Clamming down towards it I slip on the algae covered rocks and pick up a few scrapes. My beloved Vivobarefoot shoes have been worn thin. Prior to this I was considering using them for the long run, but this is unfortunately the nail in the coffin for their long distance career.
It’s very slow going and I am proud of myself for always being aware of: how far I have spent on the fisherman’s trail, how long it has taken me and constantly calculating a time of day that I would have to turn around to ensure that I was back before there was any danger of the tide. Even though it’s a thought process that could be labelled as a type of anxiety, it feels more like playing Sudoku - a mental puzzle to keep the analytical side busy.
There is very little litter on these rocks. It’s truly a pristine piece of coastline. To my left are towering cliffs, to my right the ocean. There is the odd whale here and there. Seabirds soar on the winds. Deep caves in the cliffs could have offered a late night fisherman refuge from the advancing seas. It’s a piece of nature that could be absolutely terrifyingly for many people. I have a smile on my face and feel in my element.
I think that I spot Cathedral Rock ahead of me and approach it to enquire. Unfortunately the ocean crashes right up against the cliffs ahead and my direct approach is blocked. As with all good adventures - luck is on my side as I’ve spotted a potential climb up a grassy shoot through the cliffs onto the escarpment.
As luck will have it this turns out to be a well walked path. It is not obvious that my oceanside route was not the correct one - but I am so glad to have found myself there. My adrenaline is quite high after being sandwiched between cliffs and ocean, atop slippery rocks for the last hour or so. I use this to my advantage by running hard until I get to Waterfall Bluff.
It’s all easy from here on out and I’m there in no time. Waterfalls that land in the ocean - truly quite a spectacle. People fly around the world looking at them. There is a sense that this is a glitch in reality, like this shouldn’t normally happen. It’s hard to look away from the ceaseless fresh water pummelling the sea.
I take a time-lapse while I go and check out the waterfall up close and my phone decides to jump off the rock it’s on and do a couple front flips from the sheer excitement of the moment. I take a look at All Trails to see how to get back best - inland around the big gorge (obviously). With my lunch now eaten and a cracked screen protector I begin the run home
I take a swim in a beautiful pool and lounge in the sun for a bit. I do a little check in with my body and give the scrapes and unhappy muscles some attention. The detour slightly inland is painless. I moo at a cow and it poops itself (see 6:37 of the video).
Before I know it I’m back on the beach. The journey home is always quicker. My right hip flexor is tired and stretching it out helps. I’m crossing one of the small streams that flow through the beach into the ocean when I spot a family a little further up the river - the first people that I’ve seen all day.
I make it back with the most wonderful feeling of satisfaction in my body.