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For the recent super-long weekend our daughter Elsita and I attempted to scale Namibia’s highest mountain, the Brandberg with its peak the Königstein, variously reported between 2573 and 2606 meters high (8442 - 8550 ft.) – starting at the village of Uis in Damaraland a height difference of about 1800m (5900 ft). The Brandberg is an old volcanic massive outcrop rising from the surrounding flat Namib Desert and one of the less explored areas in Namibia, so much so that only recently a new order of insect was discovered there, the Mantophasmatodea ("Gladiator") (see: http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2002/03/0328_0328_TVstickinsect.html). Moreover, there are no marked hiking paths and no tourist maps – we hired a local guide, and even he got lost on the return.
On Thursday we stayed overnight at the comfortable Brandberg Rest Camp in Uis, from where they took us and our backpacks next morning to the starting point at the Southern side of the mountain. After the most important water check (2.5 liter per person) we hiked up on the side of a gorge, carefully staying in the shade as much as possible. It’s winter in Namibia with cool air but bright sunny days.
Aside from a few human-made rock piles and occasional footprints, we trusted our guide Angula to find the way – communicating in a mixture of Afrikaans, German, Oshivambo and very little English. He led us over boulders, through bushes and across steep rock faces. We did not have to climb seriously, but in many places hands were needed just as much as feet. But we also enjoyed watching the birds, the lizards, the dassies (rock hyrax), and even a few klipspringers (small mountain antelopes). At every one of the hourly rest breaks, we took deep breaths, shared snacks, and marveled at the view from higher and higher up. About lunchtime, it was time for another “Pause” (break) in the shade of a big rock – this time we found a surprise: beautifully preserved rock paintings, thought to be several thousand years old.
Becoming a bit tired now, walking became more and more challenging. And then another problem developed. Elsita’s hiking shoes, which had served her well in Europe’s Alps, on Africa’s Kilimanjaro, across the South American Andes, and on many hikes in Namibia, began to come apart, despite recent repairs. Some safety pins kept the soles in place for the day – to be repaired again with shoe glue and gauze from the medical emergency kit in the evening.
Late afternoon, we reached the first ridge and crossed over into several small grassy plateaus, passing by some giant aloes in bloom, and some traditional tombs of the San people who used to live here. Finally, after eight hours, we arrived at the campsite for the night, recognizable only by two important features (a) a small stream with sparkling clean water from the previous rainy season and (b) a ring of stones for a fireplace and a small wind-protected sandy area to unroll our sleeping bags. Soon our guide had lit a fire, and a hearty soup was cooking on the camping stove, all the while I was gluing Elsita’s boots and she was hobbling around in my far bigger boots. Delightfully, dinner ended with a rich cup of hot chocolate for everybody. Meanwhile the sun had set and the stars filled the beautiful Southern sky. As we crawled in for the night, I could discern the Southern Cross, the Jewel Box and Scorpio, a lonely satellite passing by, and even a few shooting stars promising good adventures.
The next day, I woke up at 4 am to a howling wind that even blew our pot off the rock on which we had left it. But by sunrise, it was calm again. Breakfast of oatmeal and tea, and off we went for the final ascent to the peak. This time we needed to carry only water, snacks, and the emergency kit as we would return to the same campsite afterwards. We still had to climb up, but in between we crossed several high plateaus, some of them even swamps from the previous rains. With much laughter, we sunk in ankle-deep several times, but the dry air and the long grasses cleaned the shoes quickly each time. Elsita discovered even a frog so high up. Mid morning, we climbed up a small incline to overhanging rocks – we thought for a break – but there we found the most exquisite rock paintings, protected only by a small sign as an archeological research site of the National Museum of Namibia. High on the mountain there are pictures of elephants, giraffes, and many more, even a giant snake. Either these animals could climb or the artists (San - bushmen) had come far to observe.
The final ascent looked daunting – it turned out to be much easier than thought.
By 1 pm we stood at the peak surveying the landscape far below in bright sunshine. It is amazing, how big the Brandberg really is and how many smaller peaks and valleys are parts of the mountain. For example, the famous “white lady”, another rock painting, is found in the North-Western valleys, however the path up from there is said to be extremely difficult. Well - our names in the book prove we were on the top – not many sign each year.
On the way back to camp we were elated: we made it – but also a bit sad: it signaled the end of this great adventure. But it was not the end yet: After another step too deep into the swamp, Elsita’s boot almost lost its sole again. More safety pins, more bandages in the evening – let’s hope we make it down the mountain all right. That afternoon some klipspringers came near, and we enjoyed observing their agility on the rocks. Later on we passed one other group of hikers, who even brought a dog, but they stayed in another place for the night. Again we enjoyed a simple meal and hot chocolate and the stars overhead at night – and talked of memories of past adventures.
Sunday – the final day, and we need to get down from the mountain. The guide estimated 5 hours from the camp, and we left at 7 am. Initially, we recognized the same path where we came up, but as we passed over the ridge, the guide took a turn – directly down and supposedly faster. No problem, we were game for another adventure. As we were nearing a ravine, the boulders become bigger, and more and more often we had to really climb over them. And then final disaster – the sole came off one of Elsita’s boots and the other one split partly. There we sat ¾ up the mountain, seeing the end of the path below, and were still bandaging shoes – luckily we had a good supply in the emergency kit. As we went on, Elsita had to walk especially careful not to slip, and my legs were just getting wobbly from the stress. Steps became shorter and shorter and increasingly we needed to hold on with our hands … and we noticed that the guide wasn’t sure anymore where he went. Straight down of course, but in a ravine the boulders are the biggest. Eventually he found the path again, but by now the 5 hours have become 7 hours.
But the driver was waiting and welcomed us with ice cold beer.
And as we sat in the old truck, we pondered what was so great? It was not the longest, but one of the roughest hikes. And we made it all the way up with great weather, great views, a big challenge, in an area little known and explored, and most of all it was a special adventure for the two of us, Elsita and me. And lastly, at the end we felt good knowing that every muscle was still in place (and aching) – better than any doctor’s diagnosis.
Bernd
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