AT round 2 000m above sea level, Highmoor is well named. And at that lofty altitude Bill and I weren’t surprised, while putting up out tent, to notice a decidedly chilly edge to the wind, even though it was a sunny summer day.
The remote and scenically splendid mountain resort, where we spent the last two days of our short Drakensberg holiday, is situated in the central part of the Maloti Drakenberg Park, between the better known resorts of Kamberg and Lotheni.
It is a back-to-basics sort of a resort, with the only accommodation a small, but attractive, camping ground equipped with a clean, well-maintained but no-frills ablution block. Each of the non-electrified seven campsites are grassed and well-protected from the worst of the weather. The highest camping area in KwaZulu-Natal, it offers quite spectacular views from each of the seven sites and it really has a lovely, remote feel to it.
There are also two caves that can each sleep up to 20 people and, for day visitors, a pretty picnic area near the office. Attractions include two trout dams for controlled fly fishing, various well-marked walks and hikes to suit all fitness levels and many endemic, rare and endangers plants and animals to see along the way. The main drawcard is, however, Highmoor’s extravagance of untouched natural beauty. The dramatic scenery includes striking sand stone formations, striking mountain views, rolling, high-altitude grasslands, gorges, waterfalls and deeply incised river valleys.
We’d never been to Highmoor so were looking forward to seeing it when we left the cottage in Champagne Valley where we had spent the last week. We stopped for resupplies at the nearby bakery – a must if you are in the area – then trundled along the lovely roads that wove their way through the mountains. It was quite a long, slow drive, but it was very scenic. Along the way we stopped at a crane sanctuary near Highmoor, listened to the sometimes sad sometimes uplifting stories of the inmates and then were thrilled to see two wild wattled cranes in a nearby wetland – a rare tick indeed. Soon we’d reached the turnoff to Highmoor.
We found the camping resort even lovelier than we’d imagined, well maintained and completely ship-shape. Our campsite, surrounded by a thick hedge of ouhout and other scrubby bushes, was sheltered, shady and cosy and it overlooked a rugged valley and a long, flat-topped ridge. After putting up our tent, we contented ourselves with a fairly short walk to one of the nearby dams then returned to camp for an early evening braai. The stars were brilliant that night and the silence, profound.
It was a good thing we were up early the next morning to make full use of the mild, sunny weather while it lasted. After packing a picnic breakfast we set off on the Aasvoelkrans Cave Trail, shorter that the Caracal Cave trail but still a bit taxing. From our camp it was a round trip of about 9km and took us about three and a half hours at a fairly unhurried pace. It started with a gently undulating sections through grassland, a generous sprinkling of multi-coloured wild flowers mingling with the bright summer greens. After an easy river crossing the path took us up a fairly steep incline then along a contour line, edging the side of a mountain. It overlooked a rocky valley and a swiftly flowing stream that, every so often tumbled over a water fall.
It was a bit of a scramble down a rather crumbly steep section to the cave where we had our well-earned picnic breakfast but it was well worth the effort. The view from the cave was magnificent. We took our time on the return walk back to camp, stopping often to look at interesting plants, flowers and birds and we had a refreshment break at one of the dams before returning home for lunch. The morning had been fairly sunny but cool enough to really enjoy the walk. After we got back to camp, however, clouds started to gather and soon the rain arrived. It poured for most of the afternoon but cleared as evening approached and the sun came out, dispelling all the clouds. Except for a strange-shaped little white cloud that hovered below us in the valley.
We had just remarked on the beautiful sunny evening and the amazing change in the weather when that strange little cloud began to move up the valley. In no time at all it had mushroomed into a thick, swirling mist that crept into our camp, enveloping us and our tent in visibility- reducing dampness that completely hid the mountains – even the river valley, just beyond the camping ground.
With the mist came a distinct drop in temperature and soon we had all our winter woollies out – as well as our well-travelled Lesotho blanket that we always keep in our vehicle, particularly when we are visiting lofty places . It has kept us warm on many a camping trip.
A balmy evening under the stars would have been pleasant but there was something rather magical about the misty mountains as we sat around our little campfire, sheltering under our tent verandah, any noises muffled by the mist.. Then the cold, dark, dampness that swirled in under the awning eventually drove us off to bed.
It was still misty the next morning. Our canvas tent was dripping with moisture and much of our camping gear was soaked. It was tempting to stay in bed for a while but by 8am we’d packed up camp and had bundled the wet tent into its bag – not a pleasant task – to take home to dry later.
Visibility was still very limited as we left beautiful Highmoor. Although we had wanted to take a back route home via Lotheni, we thought it might be wiser to avoid this higher altitude, probably misty route and to head east to Nottingham Road to return home via the N3.We hadn’t gone far when the mist began to clear and we decided to risk the higher road after all.
It was a good decision. Visibility soon improved and the road less travelled was really gorgeous. It also allowed us a little more time in the mountains and a chance to see some of the southern berg we love. We eventually reached Himeville and Underberg safely and there we finally said goodbye to the Drakensberg and headed home. The ‘barrier of spears’ gradually receded into the distance as we made our way back to the coast.
