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Beforehand, friends had described the experience as a ‘foefie slide’, a traditional South African childhood game, thus named ‘because you land on your foefie’ after sliding down a rope, slung between a tree top and a lower point, and often across water to lend further excitement. As they launch themselves into the void, children of all ages cling to a metal ring or length of pipe passing over the rope, to save the skin from being ripped off their hands. Though inconclusive, further research suggests ‘foefie’ is an Afrikaans word meaning stunt or trick Amid gales of laughter, memories of five-year-old kid sisters spraining ankles and breaking wrists came flooding back. So it all seemed like rather tame stuff for a grown man. I have done some pretty stupid things in my time. It began with falling out of trees, nearly drowning while punting on the river Thames, sliding off motorcycles on gravel, clambering around high cathedral roofs, inverting the odd car, kart racing, and being ‘thrown’ by horses – one never ‘fell off’. HOTSHOT Progressively, I graduated to riding shotgun with a succession of world rally champions, going for a couple of spins with Richard Noble in his 1047 km/h (650 mph) world land speed record breaking Thrust 2 jet car, and excursions in Le Mans-winning Porsches and Jaguars.
Powerboat racing, ice driving, storming passes, bobsleighing, hotshot driver tuition, driving a Formula 1 McLaren, competing in Paris-Dakar rallies 12500 km across the Sahara, hot air ballooning and even the occasional helicopter rally are part of the litany too.
A few pressure bruises from high cornering forces and fatigue-induced hallucinations were my worst outcomes. As Jackie Stewart is famously able to claim, I never broke skin or bones – and I never lost my nerve. However, strolling through brilliant sunshine and balmy 25ºC air towards another flirtation with destiny at Karkloof, I did begin to wonder if this was entirely sane. I was not thinking of the price – though at 390 rand (£27.50) a head, it was maybe quite an expensive outing by South African standards. All I had thus far been able to glean about Karkloof had suggested ‘gliding’ through the forest canopy, gazing about at the flora and fauna in a rather fey Noddy and Big Ears fashion: ‘Hello sky, hello clouds, hello trees, hello birds.’ QUESTIONS My reverie anticipated exotic Ironwood, Stinkwood and Yellowwood trees, troops of chattering monkeys swinging easily from branch to branch, rare Cape Parrots, Crowned Eagles and Crested Guinea Fowl, and maybe even glimpses of incredibly shy Bushbuck and Blue Duiker.
First, our Zulu guides Robert and Carlo briefed us quietly on what to expect before kitting us out with full mountaineering safety harnesses and helmets. Reassuringly, they talked of breaking strains of 10 As they calmly fielded a barrage of very pertinent questions from my wife Claire, I began to speculate that she would decline to take the plunge. I was wrong, and so we both boarded a Land Rover for the steep, bumpy climb towards the top of the escarpment. A narrow path led through dense woodland to Rabbit Hole, the first launch platform high above the trees and the distant plain. Britain’s risk-averse health and safety industry would have gone into a tizzy of indignation about the absence of a balustrade to prevent the careless from plummeting over the edge. Yet it was impossible to fault meticulous precautions such as immediately clipping everyone to a security ring while waiting to go. ACCELERATION
It was here that the seriousness of the enterprise finally penetrated my devil-may-care braggadocio, shrouded in a hangover from the wedding First away so as to receive our landing at the next platform, Robert expertly hooked his twin-roller pulley over the steel cable, locked the safety latch, snapped a karabiner over the secondary back-up cable, and stepped off the edge into space. His acceleration down the steep incline appeared vaguely alarming, as did the rapidly receding whiz-roar of pulley wheels ripping along stranded steel.
However was he going to stop? Then, as I stood on tiptoe to allow Carlo ‘Blimey,’ I thought as I zipped along the cable, ‘this is a bit quicker than I expected.’ If there were any monkeys or parrots to witness my debut, I didn’t notice them. For I was entirely riveted by rushing through rapidly alternating bright light and dark shadow of high space with the wind in my ears. And I was fully focused on not smashing into the fast-looming platform below. I’d heard talk of speeds of 50 km/h (31 mph). I wouldn’t know, except that the sensation was – er – quite intense, and that I felt rather pleased with myself for making a smooth touchdown. FINE BALANCE
From the outset, Claire took an altogether more intelligent approach. She reasoned she would be more relaxed about the whole experience Next, we faced the first of the ‘big ones’, the 150-metre (492-ft) hurtle across to the Cliff platform. As any mining engineer will understand, a key point here is that strong steel cable is jolly heavy. It also stretches a fair bit, as I have experienced in the eerie subterranean world of gold and diamond mines. This cable elasticity manifests itself in pronounced oscillation as the winding gear begins to slow the cage near the end of its rapid travel to the bottom of the shaft, maybe 1,500 metres (5,000 ft) below ground.
Sling a similar cable towards the horizontal across a space, and that elasticity is still in play. Tensioning the cable to attain a near-straight line runs the risk of snapping it or of ripping out its anchorage points. This means a steeper initial downhill run, but also a near-equally steep second half upwards to the target platform. So there is quite a fine balance between letting rip on the way down and how much momentum this gives you for the run up to the finish. And this requires spot-on judgement of braking with that right hand on the cable: too soon and you’ll stop short of the platform; too late and you may be in for a crash landing. NADIR My own experience here reminded me of Jaguar’s introduction of far more efficient disc brakes in place of drums on its team of C-Types for the Le Mans 24-hour race in 1953. At the end of the long flat-out straight, amazed C-Type drivers initially came almost to a halt well short of the Mulsanne corner – until they gained sufficient confidence to brake much later.
And so it was for me on this first long high wire as I came to a standstill 3 metres (10 ft) short of the target, and had to haul myself in hand-over-hand. Worse was to come on the next – 110-metre (360 ft) – run across to the Waterfall. Stopping maybe 9 metres (30 ft) too early, I turned round to pull towards the platform and realised I was dangling in space maybe 40 metres (130 ft) above ground. Worse still, my efforts to heave myself up the steep cable to safety seemed fruitless. As my gloves slipped over shiny steel, I even fancied I might slide backwards down to the distant nadir of the cable, glinting in the sunlight. And how the hell would I get out of that? Evidently, our trusty guides were fit as butchers’ dogs and had retrieved buffoons like me before. Quick as you like, Robert shinned down the wire, clipped a strap to my harness, returned to the platform, and hauled me in to terra firma. So I did not have long to ponder my lonely fate. STUNNING VIEWS
Then, ever the diplomat, Robert suggested that I too tried riding in tandem until I got a better feel for the slides and the braking distances. It was no less awesome for that. Even if you are a thrill-seeking, totally fearless adrenaline junkie and all-round nutter, you could just meet your match at Karkloof. Or, more likely, you’ll never stop congratulating yourself for taking those eight plunges into wide-open space. The views are stunning, the guides are beyond praise, the experience will certainly grab your attention, and for ever after you’ll be able amaze the doubters and say: ‘I did that’. Claire’s verdict? ‘Terrifying and exhilarating. But the toasted cheese and tomato sandwiches at the finish were more than worth it.’ l
Breathtaking eco-tourism THREE eco-friendly canopy tour adventures now beckon in South Africa: amid the ancient Tsitsikamma forest on the Garden Route, at Karkloof forest in KwaZulu Natal, convenient from Durban, and in the Magaliesberg mountains within easy reach of Johannesburg and Pretoria. The concept emerged in Costa Rica on the Central American isthmus, where biologists were keen to investigate diverse animal life inhabiting previously inaccessible upper canopies of lush tropical rainforests. The resulting system of high platforms linked by cables soon gave rise to breathtaking eco-tourism attractions. University of Cape Town-trained civil engineer Mark Brown spent time designing and building canopy tours in Costa Rica and, when he returned home in 2000, he was full of ideas for applying his know-how locally. The Tsitsikamma forest and its huge 700-year-old Outeniqua Yellowwoods became the setting for Brown’s next project, first of its kind in Africa. This was built under the aegis of Tree Top Tours, a company established by Brown and Storms River Adventures owner Ashley Wentworth, The Karkloof story began when Pretoria businessman Anton Barnes bought a 30-hectare (75-acre) sector of the forest as a retreat. Then, after taking the ride at Tsitsikamma, he approached Treetop Tours with a view to creating a similar experience on his own land. First step was to make a full environmental impact study and submit an environmental management plan to the authorities for approval. Construction to high engineering standards took a further year. The result, with a full kilometre of slides ranging in length from 40 to 180 metres, is in many ways more challenging than Tsitsikamma, where the longest is 60 metres. Karkloof is open year-round, and offers departures for groups up to a maximum of eight people every hour between 08:00 and 15:00. About 500 people take the ride every month, so advance booking is recommended. And check again if wet weather is likely, as this renders the cables too greasy for safe braking and can dangerously reduce visibility l Where to find them Karkloof Canopy Tour, KwaZulu Natal: 20 min north east of Howick, and 1 hr 30 min inland from Durban. Tel +27+ (0)33 330 3415 Email info@karkloofcanopytour.co.za Website: www.karkloofcanopytour.co.za Tsitsikamma Canopy Tour, Eastern Cape: Storms River Village, 45 min from Plettenberg Bay and 1 hr 30 min from Port Elizabeth. Tel: +27+ (0)42 281 1836 E-mail: adventure@gardenroute.co.za Website: www.tsitsikammacanopytour.co.za Magaliesberg Canopy Tour, Gauteng: 1 hr 20 min from Johannesburg and Pretoria, and 30 min from Rustenburg. Tel: +27+ (0)14 535 0150 E-mail info@magaliescanopytour.co.za Website: www.magaliescanopytour.co.za 2068 words Copyright © 2007 by Anthony Howard Pictures: © 2007 by Anthony Howard and Rene de Beer |
NOTHING – but nothing – prepared me for my first canopy ride at Karkloof, a vast area of indigenous forest set at 1000 metres (3,280 ft) amid the foothills of the KwaZulu Natal Drakensberg mountains.
tonnes for the main cable and 6 tonnes for the back-up.
party we had left at 3 am that morning. Yet we were only about to
attempt the ‘nursery’ run, a mere 40 metres (131 ft) down to Last Chance platform, so named because it was the final opportunity to make one’s excuses and exit on foot.
to snap my pulley over the cable, I recalled the instructions about how to use my thickly padded gloves with suede palms: left hand grasps
the support strap between pulley and harness; right arm extends back over the shoulder, hand resting on cable, ready to brake by pulling down on it.
if she opted to ride in tandem with one of our guides – leaving all the thinking
and work to him. Now, where have I heard that one before? So, guided by Carlo, she made her first landing impeccably, and never looked back.
So, as you’ll notice in the accompanying pictures, the longer the cable the more pronounced the droop. 
So I rode the final five crossings – 100 (328 ft), 175 (574 ft), 180 (590
ft), 110 (361 ft) and 100 metres (328 ft) – with a safe pair of hands in control of my descent. 