May 2012: Fish River Canyon Hike

In May this year I joined a group from my hiking club to hike through the Fish River Canyon in Namibia.  This would be a six day event which would require us to carry everything we would need as there is absolutely no support of any sort during the actual hike.  

We set out early morning of Thursday 24 May and stopped for a late lunch in the well-known historical “Springbok Lodge” found in the arid Northern Cape dorp of Springbok.   The border crossing into Namibia was a simple formality and we then drove on to the camping ground at Abiqua, situated on the banks of the Orange River.   This turned out to be a delightfully quiet spot for our first night of sleeping under the brilliant stars with the murmur of the river only a few metres away.

We were up at sunrise on Friday to take the back dirt roads to Ai-Ais which took most of the morning.   We passed the recently established Orange River vineyards and the new squatter camp that has grown up for those desperately seeking work tending the vines.

We arrived at Ai-Ais at midday and enjoyed a two hour break because our shuttle to the actual start of the hike was leaving at only 1400.  We had a leisurely look around the resort which was much changed and developed since I was last there 28 years ago.  We then made a final check of our gear as from now on we were on our own.  Our travelling kit and any surplus gear was locked into the cars which we left in the resort. We loaded the Parks Board shuttle bus and then endured an 80 minute bone-rattling drive over the rough gravel roads through the desolate scrub and stone terrain to the drop-off point close to the actual start of the hike.  

View of the canyon from the start of the hike

The driver let us out about 200 metres from the start of the descent into the canyon, and with a cheery wave and wishing us luck, he was off.   Before us lay thie enormous canyon yawning 400m below and wending its sinuous way into the late afternoon haze.  

Starting down with the aid of the chains 

As we approached the escarpment edge, we saw the perilous and almost vertical descent down the initial 80m cliff-face that we had to follow.  Fortunately, chains have been affixed to assist heavily burdened hikers down this initial stage.   About two and a half hours later, and after a knee-sapping descent- most of us emerged from the gully onto the sandy bank of the river.  There we thankfully released our back-backs to choose a sleeping spot best suited to our individual tastes.  

Gert and Ron carefully negotiating the steps.

As twilight was fast creeping in, we set about setting up camp and cooking supper and what was to become the evening ritual of a walk around to see what the other folk were going to eat.   Ricardo, a very fit biokineticist, had decided that he would need meat and lots of it, so he had brought along succulent steaks weighing a ton, sufficient for six evening meals, but the extra weight didn’t seem to concern him.  Supper was followed by the inevitable camp-fire storytelling, but low key at this stage as we were still getting to know each other.  As darkness drew in, John expressed his concern about Caryn and Callum as they had not yet arrived. Later they wandered in by the light of the moon and from hence forth, were dubbed the “moonwalkers”, a couple who clearly needed soul-time together.

Allison leading Larry and Ron up for more rock scrambling

A fitful wind blew most of that night covering everything with fine sand, but I found that pulling my buff up over my ears, nose and mouth acted as a filter and I slept passably well.

Saturday we were up with the sun and on our way by about 0830.  Most of us elected to maintain SA time as Namibia is one hour behind SA but this did lead to constant queries “do you mean our or their time”? 

This was to be a very tough day with almost constant rock scrambling along the river bank.  The canyon is relatively narrow here and with the river still flowing, we had to make our way over the considerable rock falls which line either bank between the steep sides of the canyon and the actual river.  Occasionally we had a little relief as we made our way over a short stretch of sand formed on the inside bend in the river.   I found the constant climbing up and over these rocks with the inevitable scramble down the other side very stressful on the knees and legs, and I would probably not have been able to cope without my two trusty hiking poles which eased the weight on the knees and provided lateral steadying support, especially whilst descending with a heavy back-pack.

Rest break

Despite the strenuous going I was able to appreciate the magnificent sight of the slowly changing scenes of craggy mountains and steep escarpments with distinctive layering, interspersed with sharp breaks and intrusions of volcanic rock.  As the sun rose higher, the softer morning oranges and deep shadows gave way to brilliant yellows and bleached browns. 

Vidi and I  ride again!

That afternoon we took time out for a token ride on Vidi, a 1960s era Vespa scooter similar to the one I once owned.  Its presence in the canyon is an interesting story in that in 1968 some members of the Cape Town Vespa club decided that if you can hike the canyon they could ride through it.  By means of a winch and cables they manhandled three scooters named Veni, Vidi and Vici, down the steep cliff face but disaster soon struck when Veni broke loose and fell about 30m to be damaged beyond repair.   They persevered with the remaining two and eventually reached the river.  Here their problems were far from over as from there on it was a continuous struggle of pushing and pulling the scooters through the soft sand and humping them over the rocks.  On occasion they used a raft to float them across the river.  This led to the loss of Vici when the raft overturned and she sank to the bottom of the river.   They battled on for a week covering about a mile a day until finally Vidi called it quits with a flooded engine and damaged carburettor.  They abandoned her at the riverside and exhausted, made their way out of the canyon and into local folk-lore.   Some years ago Vidi, which had become buried in a sandbank by the annual flood-waters, re-emerged and was dug out and moved up onto a rocky outcrop where she remains to this day.

Table Mountain

This trip was very different from what I can remember of the time I hiked it with my elder son David in 1975.  Then the river was dry and we mostly made our way along the river bed by boulder hopping alternating with plodding through fine sand.  I don’t recall the rock scrambling and the many shortcuts that we took this time.  Perhaps these were only introduced after 1975?  What I can vividly remember is that it was very hot at midday and that we mostly rested between 1100and 1500. Further, we had to ration our water as there were only occasional stagnant and brackish pools to be found.

The hot spring

Hot water stream flowing into the river with
Caryn & Callum enjoying a warm water mud bath

On Sunday morning we passed the escape route for use in an emergency and a short while later reached the well-known Palm Springs where there is a hot spring of sulphurous water which flows into the Fish River.  The spring water is really hot- about 57˚C and the trick is to find a spot in the river where the cold river water cools the hot spring water to the ideal temperature.    Our plan was to camp here overnight so that we could enjoy a lazy afternoon and leisurely dips in the warm water.  Hiker’s lore has it that two escaped German prisoners of war hid out in the canyon during World War 1 and the palms grew from date stones they discarded.

"NASA" trying on a new style space helmet

Short cut footpath 

Setting up camp for the night

From here on, the hike becomes easier as the canyon floor widens out and there are sections of firm ground to walk on. Because sandy spits tend to develop on the inside of a river bend we found it easier and shorter to ford the river to take advantage of this feature.  Fortunately the river, although still flowing, was quite low, so crossing was easy but necessitated removing our boots/shoes and slipping on “wet-shoes’’ which drain easily but protect the feet from sharp rocks and river debris. 

Ron carefully making her way across the river

Some hilarious moments were had at river crossings as almost inevitably someone lost their balance and fell into the water.   

Like eager vultures at a kill, those first across waited for the inevitable as the remainder sloshed through the mostly knee-deep water seeking a firm footing on the very slippery rocks beneath.

Unlike my previous hike, we took the shortcuts that cut across the spine of the many peninsulas created by the constantly looping river.  These were a welcome break from ploughing through the soft fine river silt or boulder hopping across the millions of rounded stones that line the banks of the river.  These shortcuts tended to pass over a ridge which gave a fine panoramic view of the landscape, a welcome change from the more closed in vista from the river banks.

Lunch break

The days passed in leisurely fashion with us rising at sunrise [about 0700] and moving out about an hour later.  We would hike for about an hour or so, take a break usually at a shady spot next to the river, and then move on.  Unlike some groups I have hiked with, we did not really form into sub-groups but just fell in with whosoever was close by.  Generally Michael and Ricardo became the scouts who ranged ahead and chose the spots where we would ford the river.   John as leader wanted to bring up the rear to ensure no one strayed but his plan was thwarted by the “moon-walkers” who wandered along at their own pace, stopping to swim in most of the enticing pools.  Thus, as the day wore on, they fell further and further behind. Nevertheless they made it into camp by nightfall guided in by the smoke and glow of the fire Ricardo built to fend off the chill evening air.

More bolder hopping ahead! 

Swim time

The ever changing scenery was for me fascinating, with distant hazy mountains contrasting with the stark sharp outline of the nearby canyon walls with their brilliant yet muted sandy colours, deep gullies and rocky outcrops towering above us.  This would probably not appeal to those who like the more verdant wooded mountain scenes.  I, however, have long been attracted to the wide open unspoilt nature of desert regions.  Despite the arid nature of the area, I found it incredible that on closer inspection the seemingly lifeless slopes often nurtured small plants that seemed to thrive as well as many forms of insects and smaller animals. 

Evening draws in

Namibian wild horses

Shortly after we left our overnight camp on Wednesday morning, we saw three beautiful horses grazing on the opposite bank of the river.  The origins of these wild horses are unknown although many speculate that they are descendants of those abandoned or lost during the German colonial era and World War 1.  Whatever their origins, they looked in excellent condition and had clearly adapted to the environment.  A short while later we turned away from the river to climb up the short-cut path that took us past the four gigantic rocky monoliths called the Four Fingers.  At the crest of the pass we passed a small plaque affixed to a rocky outcrop commemorating the life of Rus Lemmer who had hiked the canyon 21 times!   

Dry river bed

Later that morning we reached the desolate grave of Lt. Thilo van Trotha who was a German army officer killed during a skirmish with the local Nama people in 1905.  His uncle was the notorious General Lothar von Trotha, the Commander in Chief of German South West Africa [now Namibia], who was responsible for the atrocities and genocide carried out on the local Herero and Nama people.  Paradoxically- despite its remote situation Von Trotha’s grave must now be one of the more visited sites of a largely unknown soldier.

The lonely grave of Thilo von Trotha

By midday we arrived at the causeway, a concrete apron laid across the river to allow motorised access to the West bank where apparently some efforts had been made to farm in the past.   All we could find was an abandoned shop and a short distance on, a “keep out” warning sign to a private resort.  After a couple more river crossings we made camp in a sandy gully above the river for our last night of the hike.  Fittingly, the tranquil sunset scene across the placid river was one I shall long recall.

Homeward  bound

On our final morning [Thursday], we were off early for what turned out to be a rather monotonous slog through endless sand banks as we wound our way along the bank of the river banks which twisted and turned to Ai-Ais.  By this stage, it was obvious from our increasing pace, that the scenery had lost much of its attraction and the prospect of the traditional end-of- hike cold beer was an irresistible force compelling us forward.  Finally we came to the weir that marks the end stretch, and shortly thereafter, four of us arrived at the hotel forecourt  to be met by Ricardo and Michael holding out welcome beers accompanied by cheers and clapping from the onlookers seated on the patio of the hotel.

We hung up our backpacks on the rail provided, took a seat around the table on the shady hotel patio and downed that beer followed by a lunch of choice as we welcomed in the remainder of the group.   Later that afternoon we had a good soak in the warm outdoor pool fed by the local hot spring and then a good long hot shower to clean up before our celebratory dinner.   I borrowed a spare tent from John and set up camp under a convenient tree where we would camp out for the last time. 

Waiting for Eland steak and red wine!

The hotel presented a well-stocked buffet supper that evening as a bus load of tourists from George on a two week tour of Namibia had arrived.  We dined well on Namibian beef and Eland fillet steak which I found delicious.  Inevitably, much joking and tall stories were told all encouraged by the liberal supply of Robertson Red wine which Ricardo had brought.  All in all, a successful hike with a congenial group led by a most competent leader.  What more could I ask for what will probably be my swansong to long distance hiking?

Ron, Sophie aka NASA, Myself, Ricardo with Beth in front, Larry, Allison, Callum, Caryn, John and Michael.
Gert had left earlier

Technical aspects

We left Cape Town on Thursday 24 May, drove up to Ai-Ais , descended the canyon  on Friday afternoon and completed the hike the following Thursday and returned to Cape town the next day.

Although the hike is quoted as being about 90Kms, this is the distance of the river course but as most hikers follow a shorter course, the actual distance can be a lot less.  In our case, we covered 72.2 Kms from the top of the Gorge to Ai-Ais.    The first day's descent was 412m and overall we climbed 2542 m and descended, slipped or slid down 3149 m.  

Discounting the descent on Friday afternoon, our hike took five and a half days as we arrived at Ai-Ais early afternoon on the following Thursday.  The hike could easily be done in a day less but if you have the time, the extra day does make for a more leisurely and enjoyable outing.

The daytime temperatures were mostly mild, in the upper teens and at night it would drop to about 8˚C.  We were probably lucky as others have reported much colder nights and hotter days.  During the day there was usually a slight breeze but at sunset the wind would get up, covering everything with fine sand before dying down again during the night.  

Altogether my back-pack, camera and equipment weighed in at just under 15Kgs which included 2litres of water.  Most of us used two hiking sticks and for me they were essential.  Two others who had not previously used hiking sticks, commented on how effective they were and made one so much steadier, especially while descending down a steep slope on loose gravel.

As the river was still flowing access to water was not a problem for us.  However, in many spots we found that the fish were dying-off and the water was greenish.  Some did not bother to sterilize the water, but I choose to add a chlorine pill whenever I refilled my water bottle.

Other than the precipitous descent, which is potentially dangerous at first for the unwary- the hike is not technically difficult, but it is tough and hard-going in places.  One member of the group which started the day after us had to bail out up the escape trail with severe knee problems.  She was accompanied out by two companions, all of whom arrived safely back at Ai-Ais.  You need to be fit and strong enough to carry a heavy back-pack.   A Doctor’s certificate certifying that you are medically fit enough for the hike has to be produced at the control point at Hobas on the way to the start.

The Hike was done under the auspices of the Meridian Hiking Club and my fellow hikers were: John Taylor [Leader] Allison Boshoff, Larry Jenkins, Beth Sykes, Caryn van Wyk, Sophie Kennedy [visitor from the USA] Ron Swilling, Michael Glockle, Ricardo Mentoor, Gert Mathee and Callum Vorster.