Ok, I didn't really leave blood on the trail. It was really only a trickle down my shin, and my arm.
The original plan had been a weekend away taking a rock climbing course. But the rains Friday were non-stop, and it didn't looks like they were going to stop on Saturday, so instead I cancelled, and decided to explore part of the Mpumalanga Province. I headed to an area just west of the famous Kruger Park, and spent the night in hostel in Sabie. My room had a tin roof, and the rain was still coming down heavy, so I fell asleep to the rain.
I woke up early and was outta the hostel by 7:30 am. Headed out to explore the area. It's a unique area in that there are actually a lot of waterfalls in the vicinity, as well as a the Blyde Canyon and some small towns (like Pilgrims rest and Gaskop). I stopped in both those towns, while hoping the sun would burn off the morning mist..
There is a view point, called God's window. And so I headed up the pass hoping to beat the crowds and get some time by myself to sit and do what ever one does at God's window. But as I took the turn off from the pass, I realized I wouldn't be seeing much (we're talking literally here, not philosophically), as the fog was very dense. But nevertheless, I went up the path anyway, thinking that maybe God would part the clouds for me and give me a view. And of course, there was nothing to see. The folks selling their crafts seemed to be somewhat amused that I actually went up the path and looked anyway..
I left God and headed on to the canyon. The plan at that point was to get some serious hiking done. I had read mention of a hike down to the bottom of the canyon, which went to the old Belvedere Power Station, which off the top of my head said something about how this was one of the largest power stations at one point, and that apparently the town of Pilgrims Rest had electric streetlights before London due to the Power station. I was more interested in getting to the bottom of the canyon. At the entrance to the canyon there were some potholes (which was the main attraction). These are circular divots carved into the rock by the water. Interestingly, there are potholes in Shelburne MA as well, which is the town I would live in if it were possible. Anyway..
The hike was great. Fairly primitive trail, meaning that there were occasional marking, the trail was mostly visible (and when I realized I was following a game path, not the trail, it was easy to pick up again). Came across some unfriendly baboons, realized I have baboonaphobia. Took a bit of a beating on the trail, as there was a type of tree/large bush that has well hidden spikes, and given the lack of groomed tail, required a bit of bushwhacking. So am a bit afraid what will be said at work tomorrow when I show up with cuts on my arms, thankfully they are higher up and should be partially covered by scrub tops. Anyway, stopped to take a photo on the way back and that's when I saw the blood oozing down my leg, and in that proud moment, I felt like this had been a real hike.
The best part... I was the only one on the trail. And when I was walking back to the parking lot, muddy, bleeding, and smelly, people looked at me with slight fright, and I had to reassure them that the potholes were on a paved walked, and that I had been out hiking.
So, I decided to give God a second chance, in part because I had decided to head back to Jo'burg instead of hostelling for a second night. Which meant backtracking instead of exploring more of the canyon and surrounding area. And, by now, the sun was in full force, and the clouds had vanished. So I drove back the way I had come, and took the road up the pass to see God, and wouldn't you know it, just a little way down the road I found myself back in the fog. I didn't even bother turning into God's parking lot, instead I had a few choice words for him/her, and vowed to return sometime before I leave SA.
Driving somewhere around 600+ miles in 2 days left plenty of time to think (and to sing in the car). This is such an amazing country. Again I found myself a few hours out from Jo'burg-home, and thoroughly enjoying/loving the area. But what was striking was the contrast. Clarens, The Drakensberg, and this area are all different mountains. This weekend was full of coniferous trees (and gross tree farms and logging, but I looked past that bit). And I haven't even hit the desert and ocean areas. It was so gorgeous driving home, that I though about stopping the car and jumping up and down out of sheer excitement. Though I was worried I'd look like a madman and that I'd have some weird explaining to do... I also thought about stopping, jumping over fences (past don't trespass signs) and hiking to the tops of random mountains. But, having almost gotten in trouble before for trespassing, I'm a little hesitant to do that again, and also I figured that the bakkie would get broken in to while I was going up the mountain.
Anyway, I came home wrecked, smelly, and very content. A hot bath and Chinese take-away sounded great to me, but S&S called, invited me out to dinner at The Local Grille, which has some of the best steaks, ever. Couldn't pass that up.
As for work... Friday I popped into the high-care ward to check on KB. He's the kiddo I mentioned a while back who has Trisomy 9, and who was in the cath lab last Monday. He was extubated in the ICU mid-week and was holding his own. On Thursday when I popped in to see him, he actually looked a bit better than he had the day before. But when I saw his bed empty Friday morning, I knew that he had died in the night. And I confirmed this with the Reg taking care of him. He died across the hall from the bed which he occupied for his first few days in Bara, back when I admitted him in August. His mom, who is 17, hasn't fully understood the severity of the situation. And many people have tried different approaches to help explain that it was likely to come to this end. So, mid-morning when we were rounding in HC, I saw her. I approached her, and was about to express my condolences when something happened. I was literally about to say I was sorry he had died, but instead what came out was "good morning, how're you?" Something at the last second had registered that I should be careful about what I said. "Where's my baby" was her reply. I don't know what cue I picked up a the last minute which made me realize that she didn't know that he had died. And here she was now, mid-morning, not aware that he had died during the night. Which is, of course, horrific as well. I didn't know the full details, and excused myself to call the Reg to come and talk to her. I hadn't really been connected with his care since August, and it didn't seem right for me to break the news. And for those who wonder.. this doesn't happen regularly. Parents are called when children die, as one would expect. I would guess she didn't have credit on her phone, and had assumed that he was well, and didn't call to return the message, but rather showed up that morning as usual.
There are PICS up, click under my mug shot over there to the right of the screen where is say PICS.
