Marble Baths and Fireflies

"Nights like these dwell in unfading memory with the mountaineer. And when the day comes, that our bones are stiff and our backs are bent, it shall be good to know that such things have been, nay, still are. For though mountain and climber vanish away, beauty never fades, nor the love of it.” - W. C. Wyberg -

My mom agreed to join me on a hike the next time my dad would be in the UK for work, as sleeping on the ground away from modern plumbing is not his thing. The weekend was set, and we settled on hiking to Marble Baths in the Injisuthi area. It would also be Mike (my brother) and Ryan’s (his friend) first time there. We booked a chalet at Injisuthi camp for Friday night and drove in around 5:30 p.m. after some significant pothole-dodging and the occasional “oof” when one was hit. First things first… a swim in the river. Mom and I headed straight for a large pool that we visited as children, while Mike and Ryan ventured down the river from the chalet in hopes of meeting us downstream. In my attempts to pack light, I had forgotten a swimming costume, so I ended up splashing around in my PJ pants and a sports bra.

That evening, the boys braaied some lamb chops and chicken for us while Mom and I sipped wine, watching the sun descend over Monk’s Cowl and Champagne Castle in the distance. I spilled over the Drakensberg and wildlife books I had brought with me, studying the maps and dreaming of spending the weekend in my beloved mountains. After a hearty dinner and some chocolate and coffee to wash it all down, we headed off to bed for an early night.

Saturday morning spoiled us with sunshine, despite the threatening weather reports throughout the week. We were signed in and at the trailhead by 7:30. The first section of the hike was grossly overgrown, and we met several other hikers along the way. The first river crossing proved more challenging than anticipated, as the water was high from the previous week’s rain. We all took off our shoes and made our way upstream to a lower section where crossing would be less challenging. The cold water sent chills from our feet up our spines. Oh, how I love these mountain rivers — the crystal-clear water so close to its source, washing away all our worries and expectations, reminding us of the simple, pure things in life.

We trudged along the contours, the spikey grass whipping our legs as we went. After around 6 km, at the final river crossing before the climbing started, we had a snack break and filled our bottles. We were met by some leg- and lung-burning climbs as we made our way towards the towering range that lay before us. Ryan made the fateful mistake of exclaiming, “Wow! This hill is steep, hey!” which was met by an unimpressed Debbie, who responded, “No shit, Sherlock.” At last, the hill relented. We were greeted by a pleasant contour path with expansive views of the escarpment and cascading waterfalls on the surrounding hills. We circled a corner, and there it was, unmistakable in its unique cascading waters and large marble pools. I gave a skip of excitement as we approached, hearing the laughing and shouting of the small group of day hikers who were there already.

It took us all of two minutes to throw off our packs and plunge into the cold waters. We had a blast skidding down the rockslides and dunking into the deep pools at the bottom, with the occasional collision with a stray rock. We took turns sliding down the three slides in the vicinity, timing our runs and seeing who was quickest. Mike and Ryan ventured upstream and somehow ended up in a rock fight of sorts… boys. There was also a point where Mike bent over to pick something up and discovered a hole in both his shorts and his undies. This was followed by Ryan making the same discovery.

My brother bent down to pick something up near where my mom was sunbathing, when she looked up and exclaimed, “Michael! You have a hairy bum!” This was far more information for me than I had wanted, and I firmly kept my eyes fixed on the rock below me.

It wasn’t long before three young families arrived with their kiddos. They dropped off their bags in the cave and joined us at the river. Mike and Ryan showed them the slides, which gave them the confidence boost needed to plunge in themselves. There was a point where Michael was chatting with one of the dads; when he mentioned that his pants had torn, the guy leaned back to look, quickly looked away, and said the only thing he could think of: “Narley.” Mike was surprised by his strange reaction, and upon examination realised that the tear had progressed and there was basically no material left. He did an awkward shuffle back to where my mom and I were sitting so as not to leave the kids with the trauma of his exposed bottom.

We spent the remainder of the day transitioning between rock and water, the cool breeze preventing us from noticing the ever-growing sunburn on our bare skin. It wasn’t until I exclaimed, “Michael! Are you wearing sunscreen?!” that we were all forced to examine our own skin for the dreaded red colour that would result in awkward tans and uncomfortable sleeping positions. Michael, as usual, was burnt the most. He hurriedly put his shirt back on and applied a generous layer of SPF 50.

After setting up camp on the grass just above the river, we settled into my small two-man tent for a game of UNO using homemade cards fashioned from pages of my mom’s diary, while distant thunder rolled outside and the rain pattered down on the little orange tent. The rain soon dissipated, and for the first time all day we were able to see the escarpment. The mountain towered above the few dappled clouds as the sun rays shone like a crown above the range. The sky, once shrouded in mist, transformed into a series of orange colours, defining the darkening silhouette of the great mountain it encompassed into a thing of awe. The orange of the sky was reflected by the water of the river, as well as the many streams and puddles that inhabited the large area of rock. It was a view that will forever remain in my mind’s eye.

While lying on the rock, hoping the clouds that had set in would relent for us to see the stars, something caught the corner of my eye. I squinted into the darkness, and there it was again — a firefly! We watched as the little glow would appear and disappear until it vanished behind the dense bush. We saw a number of these little lightning bugs that evening; it reminded me of childhood nights on the coast, chasing fireflies.

We called it an early night and headed to our abode for the night. Mom and I slept well. There were two small storms that awoke us, but we were cozy in our little tent. The boys, however, did not have quite so good of a night. There was a leak in their borrowed tent which, coupled with the pain of sunburn, resulted in an unpleasant night.

Sunday morning brought with it beautiful sunshine, and after a morning swim and some coffee, we began the journey home. The hike home was swift, and before we knew it, we were at the last river crossing. Ryan and I went ahead, and when we got to the stretch of road before Injisuthi, which was around 850 m long, I ran ahead, leaving my bag with Ryan, fetched the car, and met the rest of the group, saving them a bit of walking.

After a customary dip in the river, we headed home, leaving the rumbling thunder in our rear-view mirror. It was a wonderful weekend, filled with wonder, joy, and a fair bit of sunburn.