How the Fraser Falls abseil got started
In the true tradition of what On Track Club is all about, we were five mates headed out for whole lot of adrenalin pumping adventure. We were busy marking out the course for Morgan's Run – still believed to be the best, 400km Adventure Race in South Africa to date.
In my mind, marking out Adventure Racing courses provides for greater adventures and experiences than the race itself. We were headed into frontiers that very few have experienced before us, frontiers that will provide competitors ephemeral life experiences that will echo far into the future.
Standing on the edge of the escarpment we could have been whales on the surface of the sea gazing down into an uncharted abyss. Far below, flights of rare, pale green parrots glided above the emerald tree canopy. The bark of massive baboons on ledges far below punctuated the jungle cacophony and then just moments of echoing silence. Had we been whales, a deep breath and the thrust of a majestic tail would have been enough to take us down, down, far down into the depths of the abyss. But we weren't whales, just a bunch of mates standing at the edge of the world looking down onto a forgotten Eden. For us, the only way down was to follow the way of the water plummeting over the sheer rock face onto the ancient trees below.
We estimated that the abseil would be in the region of 84m so we dug out the 100m static, hurled it over the precipice and watched it snake its way into the void scattering panicked birds into the air. From our perch at the edge of the world it seemed our estimations were on the money, the rope had found its way through the trees surrounding the pool at the base of the first waterfall. Roger, our rope access expert, had the honours of stepping onto the rock face for what would be the epic abseil of his life.
The first 50m were mind blowing. Even when we watched him through a 300mm lens he was no more than a spec lost amongst the weathered cracks. Everything here was on a massive scale and after 80 metres Roger disappeared into insignificance. What we didn't know was that Roger was running out of rope; the 100 metres came to an end just beneath the tree canopy! These were ancient trees, trees that had grown undisturbed over hundreds of years. These were big trees that couldn't be appreciated from our precarious perches more than 200 metres above.
Being prepared is everything; Roger was carrying an additional 100 metres strapped to his back.
This is the kind of stuff he lives for. Picture it, there he was out of touch with the world; the waterfall drowned out any chance of communication, nobody could get down to him; even a chopper wouldn't be able to get anywhere near him. Mountain rescue would have a day's expedition to get to the base of the rock face. Come to think of it, after a day's expedition through the jungle they would only be at the base of the second face, from there they would still need to climb the 80 metre face from the bottom waterfall to the pool at the base of the first waterfall, above which Roger dangled an additional 20 metres higher. What I forgot to mention at the beginning is that the waterfall fell in two stages and at this point Roger was busy negotiating the first face.
The total abseil turned out to be just short of 200 metres! Are you up to it? Once you're in, there's no turning back. The only way out is to follow the river through the jungle to its mouth on the Wild Coast. The vines, the sub-tropical undergrowth and sheer sides make it impossible to even consider another route.
Simon was the next one in. Roger had made it down to the base of the first waterfall by joining the two 100 metre ropes. To say that he was amped would have been an understatement. Two hands together above his head was the agreed signal for Simon to make his way down. Simon was our resident 'professor' on this recce; in a day he imparts more information than most of us would learn from a set of encyclopaedias. But, encyclopaedias are one thing, this was his third abseil ever; the two previous abseils had been during his initiation into Adventure Racing.
Here he was at the top of an impossible face asking, "Hey Mike, is this Grigri set up OK?"
What do I know about Grigri's? On a 9m climbing wall I would have no problem checking him out. But this was different. Here his life depended on everything working one hundred percent right, even the harness seemed like something I had never seen or worked with before. I checked him over, "Ja boet, you look OK" I replied, wondering if he could sense the anticipation in my voice, "Anyway you can get Roger to check you out when you get to the bottom" I joked. With that he went over the edge.
It took Simon and Roger another two hours to rig the second abseil to the very base of the waterfall. This time there was no staying dry. They dropped directly down. The waterfall alongside literally leapt a few meters off the edge before it too plummeted down to the churning pool. It's hard to describe the two specs as they disappeared behind the falling water. Every now and then we would loose sight of them completely. When they finally touched down there were cheers of victory from all of us; the Shepard's, local farmers and foresters who had gathered, sitting transfixed to watch the epic unfold – Simon and Roger danced a jig, swam across to the jungle and disappeared only to emerge on a deserted beach the following morning.
Since this, our inaugural abseil down Fraser Falls, we have taken down more than 100 adventure enthusiasts. Some South Africa's most experienced adventure racers, some had never climbed or for that matter abseiled a rock face of any kind before. All are safely home!
Without exception, at the mention of Fraser Falls, there is not a person among them that can withhold the smile that results from a true life experience.